Glancing over, I saw him reach into the top pocket of his overalls and produced a pocket watch, securely attached to a button hole in the...

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The cold, low winter sun falls red upon the stair. It’s like this every afternoon, late, when I’m alone. Before the sky turns black I...

No one writes LOVE LETTERS anymore. That’s old fashioned, Passé, not cool. No, now we send TXT, Tweet, or fire off an email from our...