“Siri,” I asked my phone when I pulled up to a red light. “Have you read Ms. Beatty’s story already? These song choices just seem too coincidental.”
This isn’t the 1967 riots. There’s no smoke or soot billowing into the air, but Detroit is still being looted by desperate people.
Love should not have that much pain or sorrow in it.
The motley crew of animals my family and I have adopted knew and know nothing but love, security, and joy.
Try to imagine what it’s like to wake up one morning, like I did recently, only to realize your childhood has been boarded up, abandoned, padlocked.