David sat in his childhood room, the stack of letters trembling in his hands. Each one was a window into his mother’s heart—a heart he had taken for granted. Her words, so full of love and longing, cut through the years of silence between them.

He found a letter dated ten years earlier. It spoke of her hope to see him at Christmas. He hadn’t come that year. Another letter, written five years ag...

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Evelyn sat by the window, her frail hands clutching a pen. Outside, snow blanketed the empty street, muffling the world in silence. The house was still except for the faint ticking of a clock, marking moments that felt too long and too short all at once.

She stared at the blank sheet of paper on the desk before her. For years, she'd written to her son, David. She’d sent birthday cards, Christma...

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His words could become sharp as corners

And trap you there

Flailing in his grasp

They could pinch your skin

Until you cried

And cried

Throughout your shifts

They could catch your wrists and stop you

From moving on

From moving

They could lock the doors, no leaving

They could shame you and shrink you

They could come flying in from an open window,

A buzzing phon...

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