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Letters to the Editor

Dear Sirs:  . . . . Dialogue can become a source of intellectual sastisfaction that will complement and augment the spiritual satisfaction abundantly provided by the Church. To become such a source it must be…

Letters to the Editor

Dear Sirs:  Re: Secretary Udall’s letter  The Lord has not spoken,  The Prophet is silent,  And so am I.  Alexander T. Stecker Belmont, Massachusetts  *** Dear Sirs:  You wanted a Dialogue—so now you have a dialogue;…

The Bible, the Church, and Its Scholars

In Professor Snell’s article and in the response to it by Professor Sperry, one finds the work of two committed members of the Church, who nevertheless appear to differ greatly on their interpretation of the…

Sonya

Sonya has been sober almost a year—six months in treatment and six months on her own—and goes to AA meetings at noon or at 7:00 p.m. (sometimes both times) every day. She smokes Camel 100s…

The Shyster

Arne met Leanne Holburn at church during his final year in an MBA program at the University of Washington. He found her very attractive. Of medium height, she had sculpted cheeks, an aquiline nose, and…

Resurrection

Since he was a child, he’d dreamed of himself in one form and woken up, always disappointed, always jolted by the reality and by the way that others looked at him. In the first years,…

Excerpts from Before Us Like a Land of Dreams

From “Homing”  In which our protagonist, a crabby aging mother and professor, drives from Salt Lake City to her father’s birthplace—Safford, Arizona—to visit an infant’s gravesite. Year: 2016.  Grandma Anderson said one of the best…

The Sacrifice

Mnemosyne  She was still puzzled that the stars were not the same ones she knew. She cor rects. That she used to know. Where was Orion, its belt and sword glowing bright with mythic power…

The Willows

Amy was a child when Congress passed the Edmunds Bill, assuring the end of polygamous living in Utah, but she was old enough to know that Aunt Edna was not her aunt at all but…

The Redtail Hawk

I remember how icy the alarm clock was that morning when I grabbed it and fumbled under the covers for the button. I didn’t want my mother to hear it and get up too, because…