My story began the night of my birth. I emerged from the warm darkness of my mother's body into the cold darkness of a flat bed truck. Everything felt cold and unfriendly as I came into this world howling my displeasure of the transition. No loving arms cradled or comforted me. No soft words or … Continue reading I have a Story to Tell: Zane
Sharon examined the purplish black bruising under her right eye. Gingerly, she tried to dab on her Cover Girl concealer, but winced and drew back from the pain. No tears fell. She had learned long ago that it never helped. Actually, this time was not so bad: a bruise or two, a small cut on … Continue reading A New Beginning?