The God of Broken Sticks
Springtime was upon us in East Texas. I was enjoying my morning coffee when Joseph, my one-year old son, came bounding down the steps in his rubber boots pointing towards the door saying, “dada, side […]
Springtime was upon us in East Texas. I was enjoying my morning coffee when Joseph, my one-year old son, came bounding down the steps in his rubber boots pointing towards the door saying, “dada, side […]
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