"How Do I Know There Is a God?" You know what I love about writing? No one can interrupt me. As a kid, I had so much to say but was always cut off—misunderstood. People thought they’d heard enough… but later wished they’d let me finish. I meant well. I always did.In the early mornings in the woods drinking a hot cup of coffee, a man has tim

It came sudden, like gunfire after too long a silence. Lights flipped on. Roaches ran. The kind of moment you don’t see coming but feel in your bones three days before it hits. When the air grows heavy and the coffee tastes wrong. That’s how you know.They thought no one would notice. Thought they could keep stealing, lying, twisting. Thought th