Where Photography and Stories Meet
Molly’s house was right on the corner across the street from the school.
There were a lot of stories around town about how she had lost her little girl in a tragic accident.
She hadn’t been seen much since that day.
The kids often dared their friends to go up and knock on her door. They’d scatter every time they heard a noise within.
And then Becca moved to town.
The Janitor clocked in at the nursing home a little early that morning. He had a lot to do and didn’t want to miss anything. […]
If she listened carefully, the sound of the wind blowing through the old water tubes sounded a lot like children’s laughter. She reminisced about what it was like to live in this place when it was still full of energy and life, and water. The drought had now been going on for 50 years. The last good rainfall was over 20 years ago and the weather forecasters didn’t sound hopeful.
Winnie sat down in front of the typewriter. It was time, she couldn’t keep putting it off. If she didn’t get some words on paper […]
No one knows how she got her name. When Dad found her walking down the side of the highway, she only had the one tag […]
“It’s just stuff.” That’s what he said when I showed him the photographs. “But it was SOMEBODY’S stuff!” I tried to explain. This shirt may […]
“You have to do something, Kurt. You can’t keep letting the kids take care of themselves.” The Sheriff had been around a few times in […]
This is home. They knew it the moment they crested the ridge. Jack and Cindy had been searching for a place to call their own. […]
It was a backward town with old traditions and beliefs, most of which weren’t going away easily. The townspeople raised their children much like they […]
He was born sometime before the big war when dust seemed to be everywhere he went. He was proud to follow behind the big leader […]