Every summer I run several times a week along the country roads that have known me since babyhood. I can read them with my eyes closed. I know where I have to dip my head to bypass low hanging branches and where I can count on a breeze from the …
uncommon sense: because living is courageous
I’m not nearly as strong as you. I can’t leave. Oh darling. My sweet, wonderful, intensely brave darling. Sit down with me here, cross legged, face to face. Take a deep breath. I want to lift your chin and look deep into your eyes and tell you some things. It …
