We’re never dispatched into happy homes. No, we’re sent into the broken ones. We’re tasked to save the stabbed, shot, beaten and brutalized. We witness the child holding his broken toy left behind by a burglar. The vacant stare in the woman who knows a stranger has been touching her lingerie. The anger and grief…
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I spent 15 minutes writing a #vss365 (daily very short story) on Twitter today using the prompt #dirt and I needed a gif or photo to accompany it. I find that something visual accents my words and gives it that extra dimension some of us need. The story is of a man grieving the loss…
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