The Razorwire held a distance and stood quietly at the other edge of “No Man’s Land… I’d stare intently out of my prison cell’s window
My dad is a heavy guy. He’s not heavy in the way that he weighs down every conversation with unnecessary requirements of emotional energy, or
I walked into the courtroom with my ankles shackled and wrists bound to a belly chain. There was a deputy on either side of me
Thanksgiving for most people is wonderful. It’s a festive opportunity to commune with neighbors, family and friends. For me, it’s a little more than that.
My dog Indio sleeps right outside of my window at night. I keep it open and he’s always just a few feet away. I’m used
I spent two hours on the Cordova Bridge yesterday, waiting to get back home. Two hours — trapped in my head, observing. I can’t help
I’d passed them up already, accelerating toward another job site — always short on time. They were standing on the opposite edge of Weisner Road when we locked eyes, so I pulled over. I looked in the rear-view mirror and this lady was towing an old man along by his
As printed in the Las Cruces Sun News on September 20, 2009. My family moved to Las Cruces when I was 5 or 6 years old. Things were difficult because we didn’t speak English, but my family worked hard to make ends meet. Life was good in those early days.
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