BIG LOVE

Photo by Clara The day he died, we started to live. We were lucky that way - being alive. Many don't make it. On his last day I was under the bed making myself as flat as possible; willing myself into the floorboards. The door was locked, but that gave me little reassurance. If he …

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Un omp (An immigrant)

On a wall, tucked in a corner, there is a poem entitled, A Man. It is primarily born from the sadness and mixed emotions of a daughter losing her father. However, it is also a tale of the immigrant experience. My hope is that it will act as food for thought for all those who …

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