She cowers in the recesses of the walk-in closet. Outside, the sounds of his rage penetrate this most precarious of havens. She buries her face in the satin of her wedding gown, and begins to pray to a god she's no longer sure she believes in. She has prayed before, countless times, but her words seem to have fallen on deaf ears. God, who is ( Read more... )

Ringing phones, whispered confessions, angry outbursts, and hysterical questions. All of these things were part of my graduate school experience ( Read more... )

"Her name is Caroline." They told me on a June afternoon ( Read more... )