“Tom showed him to the door, said good night with little or no enthusiasm, and when the door was closed, sat down on the bench by the door. He felt as though he had just eaten a couple of the five-pound plates from his weight-lifting gear in the basement.”
A Liberty Primer
Introduction: As a number of you have been confined to quarters for a while, it may have been that your thoughts have turned to topics like freedom and liberty. It may have been that you have started ...
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That Kind of Presbyterian
“‘Is he a believer?’ Dawn asked. ‘Well, he is a Presbyterian. But he is the kind that believes the Bible. And as an attorney, I get the impression he is the kind of lawyer who goes home and sharpens his incisors at night.’”
Letters in the Lock Down
This is quite possibly the way the Spirit communicated to Paul that he was not to go to Bithynia (Acts 16:7 ). Letter to the Editor: Did you mean Panic Born in the Aftermath? or Panic ...
A Full Crankcase
“Governor Fawgee Prater was the kind of politician who was telegenic enough, but who, if you got closer than ten yards or so, was revealed to be as unctuous and oily as they come. A full crankcase had nothing on him.”
Understanding Panic Porn in the Aftermath
Introduction: We have all shared in the event, right? And the event will not last forever; there will come a time soon when it is ensconced in the history books. In the course of this event, there ...
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Mood Swings
“And thus the stage was set for Maria to go through several days of dark anguish and exquisite joy, alternating back and forth like a small reciprocating two-cycle engine.”
Surprising Potential
The Deep Feels
“This poor woman’s poetry . . . was the kind of poetry that focused on how the poet felt. True, there was not much here to distinguish it from the vast watery sea of how all the other poets felt, but Taki-Smith had a peculiar genius for it. Her volume of verse that had won the Pulitzer Prize was not titled The Pale Parabola of Joy, but it might as well have been.”
About Twenty Yards Wide, to be Exact
“His grandfather was a revival preacher named Stump Hutchins from the Tupelo old school, and was capable, whenever he got going good, of preaching a pretty wide swath of blue ruin.”