This is a story.
Charcoal clouds circled in the valley from high above the city’s center. A man, a little older than the both of us, stood on his doorstep in a town miles away and watched the black veil stretch from the infinite sky down to the ground below and violently swirl east to west and west to east, but always being brought back towards the center by some unseen force. The clouds moved so quickly he wasn’t sure they were moving at all.
Squinting his eyes, he witnessed the clouds pass over far away buildings, and when they had moved on, there was no sight of the previously familiar buildings. No steeples, no towers blocking his view through the valley now. [Excerpt]
I never expected to be the gay one. In between all the Sunday school, youth group and Fellowship of Christian Athletes’ events, being gay wasn’t quite outlined in my plans. [Excerpt]
It's up here, between bushes and bricks, that I've been able to see more clearly during this somewhat morning ritual of mine. Runners fly past, and I can tell. Some of them are running towards something - they have this vision in their eyes, hopes for something up ahead. Others, I can tell, are running from something. From the person they are, or were. I guess that's really how we all ended up here. One or the other. [Excerpt]
Fall. Everyone's favorite culture. Even the textiles seem softer and smoother and more gentle on the skin. As if the air itself tastes like grace. Cathartic clouds -- turquoise sheets draped behind gray piles of cumulonimbus lace. A cool breeze blowing through, carrying us back to high school football games and bonfires on beaches where we've never been, but we always imagined that we did. The feeling of a thousand memories inhaled in one whiff, the taste of sweet nostalgia and college meal plans. [Excerpt]
