The Lies You Believe…

Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash

As a child, scared in the night, I’d go sleep in my parents’ room. My mom had a long, white night-dress that hung behind the bedroom door. In the darkness, it always looked to me like a skeleton. I have no idea how many nights I lay there afraid of a night-dress. I’m pretty sure, deep down, I knew that skeletons don’t usually hang out on the backs of bedroom doors, and that my parents weren’t the type of people to keep skeletons around. But…



The Art of Ethical Narrative.

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