Weeds in the Garden Far too much of her journal was dedicated to him. Handwriting as heavy as the pen and paper would allow, scribbles reminiscent of cursive swept across pages, a tome to the love she would never know. He loved her. He didn’t hit her or curse her or steal bread from the children they would never have. They had one fight: she fought because he wasn’t there enough and he fought because she was there too much. He was present, but absent. He wasn’t gone, he just wasn’t there. He wasn’t a negative, but a zero. A nothing.

Once upon a time there was a girl who knew what she wanted and she went after it with great aplomb. Diana on the hunt, the girl channeled all her energy into hunting and capturing goals she knew belonged to her, even the ones that seemed too big to capture…

Loss brought sadness. Grief took it away. Grief sighed quietly to himself as he looked at the woman sobbing quietly in the bed, individual tears gathering into small tributaries that would pool on her pillow. He lay next to her, offering a hug, weighing her body into the sagging mattress…

The crater, which had begun as a series of the tiniest spiderwebs of cracks and fissures in the bridge, grew and exploded across the concrete with such speed and force that Albert had no option but to plummet through. As the car dove 150 feet hood first into the river…

“It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness, — an American, a Negro; two souls…

I saw the prettiest sun kissed girl today Golden brown skin, bronzed art in a frame Wide hips that rocked, a ship in the glass Broad smile and bright eyes, reflecting her charmed life I saw the prettiest sun kissed girl today Held my hands on her hips and watched her watch me We shared secrets, giggled at our yesterdays and wished for our tomorrows I looked at her and she looked at me Watched her hands twist locks into my hair

I’m on the right side of 40, and I learned this story last week. I started Girl Scouts in first grade and was an active Scout until I was in 12th grade. I loved scouting. In high school I slang cookies out of my locker and was a national delegate…