[…] art school. The dreams for the future grew and grew until some pictured the area becoming a world art center with positive new kinds of art supercede “Pop,” “Op,” “auto-destructive art,” and what-not. Among […]
[…] Eccles leapt from his seat, straightened his tie, and surreptitiously placed his fists on his hips in the Superman pose, for he had watched a video online that said doing so can spike one’s […]
Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought has been changing in 2019, including bringing on a foreigner as the new fiction editor. That’s me. None of the fiction I’ve been curating will appear before this […]
[…] the ruins. The ruins made him feel more than any other thing that he had left the world he knew. From the trolley he saw the blocks of rubble, with only halves and quarters […]
[…] knowing that I would probably be drafted and sent to Vietnam, hearing the older Germans talk about World War II, and every day preaching the gospel of Christ changed me. I felt guilty because […]
[…] was thin and flat as wallpaper. Parley was her brother. Sarah knew he had died in either World War I or World War II—she couldn’t remember which. “It’s okay, Gran,” Sarah said. “Go back […]
It came then that Sara dreamed of the flood. It had been the news for weeks, cities all along the Front sandbagging streets, sidewalks, driveways, window wells, a mudslide that made a lake over […]
[…] and whose ideas they would think ir relevant to just about anything. I lived in a different world—a world without the Reader’s Digest, a world devoid of talk-show hosts, a world filled with grandiose ideas, […]
[…] bucked myself up and put on a good face. We talked, catching up on all the family news and remembering the Nauvoo trip. My wife sat in a chair at the head of the […]
[…] snowdrifts cling grimly to tree roots, to shaded ground, and even these are not long for the world. It’s warm for February. The Ranger leads the group into a dry, sunny clearing. He stops, […]