457 pages of absolute tomfoolery and badassery, all to the end of staying alive. It is with great pride and excitement that I announce the completion and release of my first independently written major work: "Alacrity". When I was young and my father was planning the purchase of a sailboat, he sat everyone in the... Continue Reading →
"Had you heard her story five years ago, you'd assume she would be dead, in prison or in a drug recovery center."
Blood splatter coated all but one wall in spite of having been clearly scrubbed with strong chemicals. A double mattress was crammed in the corner, completely bare save for more stains and a crusty duvet cover. My eyes traveled to the rails on the head of the bed, settling on the restraints that dangled from each corner.
Swaziland has the highest HIV/AIDS rate and lowest life expectancy in the world. Many of these women have lost husbands or loved ones and are left to care for their families themselves.
All seems too perfect: Kenny is sober and thriving and Skye completes her training, but when she comes back to visit, she finds Kenny has a bone-chilling secret.
The weight of the pack crashed down atop me, then rolled off the side. The group stopped and watched as it rolled off the ledge we hiked along, taking me with it.
With the coronavirus hitching rides and stealing lives, many have turned to natural solutions to help keep themselves healthy and safe.
"I heard Copaiba oil was selling so fast they had to restrict one bottle per person. First I thought it was because it was CBD; then I realized what the oil did."
In her fearless and often shamelessly dark humor, Skye presents the paradox of the voiceless child in her own ordeal and demonstrates how even the best studied of places can hide terrible practices.
"I don't experience lower back pain or inflammation anymore, and every oil I share means money in the pockets of these incredible women. Most of them are simply trying to save for school fees for their kids."
"I didn't stop to look as I quickly scooped another rock and pulled my arm back to heave it into his smug face. A hand closed around my wrist- it was Summer."
"I'm going to beat his face in!" As I stomped towards the truck to deck the driver, an iron grip closed on my small arm. The cop seized my other arm and wrestled me back to the driver door, opening it with effort for me.
"It's the way we can still buy eggs from the neighbor. The brothers just go about their window washing and watch the money come in!"