Don’t follow tail lights through a fog

I might as well have been smothered in a blanket for how well I could see. Sliding, oozing, pouring through the air to swirl around me, the thick fog that rolled in from the ocean behaved more like a wave of viscous liquid than it did a cloud. The road I was driving on ran parallel to the water, and it only took a couple of minutes after the fog hit the beach before it had fully encompassed my car.

Read MoreDon’t follow tail lights through a fog

The Taking Tree

My earliest memory of Grandma Elias was a Sunday morning at her house. The eggs were firm and golden and the hash-browns were burned, just like they were supposed to be. Everything at Grandma’s house was exactly right, all the way from the Christmas lights which never came down to her little corgi Muffins who followed her like a shadow. It was time for church, but I didn’t want to leave.

Read MoreThe Taking Tree