The Tool That Cannot Fix

The Tool That Cannot Fix

I’m no stranger to tools. My father is a retired electrician, and so was my grandfather. Somewhere there’s a photo of a five-year-old boy, standing in a living room on brown shag carpet, with his daddy’s toolbelt hanging lopsided around his bony waist. The photo is likely stashed at the bottom of a box in an attic, but the image is fresh in my mind.

I’m a fixer. That doesn’t mean I know how to fix everything, but it does mean I’ll try. Continue reading “The Tool That Cannot Fix”

“Visibilty”

“Visibilty”

That’s the way it came out.

The school library was packed with sweating parents seated amidst three-foot-tall bookshelves and wall-tacked posters lauding “Reading is fun!”

“V…I…S…I…B…I…L…T…Y,” he said, each letter spelled with confidence into the microphone. Continue reading ““Visibilty””