Dispatch from the 7th Level of Hell

The report of Fairfax, Va., police officer Tracy Perkins is written in clean, clinical prose: “At…

As Wise And Warm As Any Street

A Eulogy for My Son

Suicide Ghosts: Frighteningly Close, Disturbingly Resilient

Chewing on Broken Glass

Mr. Meeks, you may see your son’s body now…

Thirteen Words

The scene in his room is a violent still life portrait of a desperate and tortured soul. It’s been four days since my son killed…

Disposable People

“This is our last family reunion. It’s the first in a morgue.”

“This is our last family reunion. It’s…

The End

I’m 30,000 feet over some flyover state headed to the west coast, drawn there because the…

Grief is My Disease

Grief is a disease.

The Next Five Minutes

My kid committed suicide a week ago; as I write this what remains of his body is likely now resting in a simple copper…

In the Company of Grief

It Evolves. It Pursues. It.Does.Not.Let.Go.