The Glass Between Us
It is 3:14 am. The house is holding its breath, and I am staring at the wall, wondering why we spend our lives trying to touch things that are meant to stay behind a barrier. We want to hold the cold, to press our skin against the winter, forgetting…
A Walk to Home by Sunando RoyThe Weight of the Way
Seneca once remarked that it is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, who is poor. We often mistake the accumulation of burdens for the accumulation of life, forgetting that the path toward home is best traveled with…
The Weight of Twilight
There is a specific kind of gratitude that arrives only when the day begins to surrender its edges. As the light thins and the world turns toward the cool, quiet blue of evening, the frantic pace of our thoughts often slows to match the cooling…