MEMORIES of my GRANDMOTHER

If I want to conjure up my grandmother in my mind, I will think of the color yellow.

And the color pink.

Rose-scented cologne.

When One Door Closes

The airplane engine roars as it crosses the sky just outside my bedroom. Every morning, before school I race to catch a glimpse of whatever flying contraption is zooming above. Still dressed in my pajamas, I push

We the People

I’m a protector. Not by trade. I don’t get paid or anything. It’s more like my DNA has a code embedded within every cell that automatically tells my brain to jump in when someone needs help. It’s true. That’s the way I was built. Some people are driven to be culinary masters, others have a calling to be prolific composers, or