Trading Nightmares For Dreams
I’m sitting on the couch on Friday morning. A train whistles, telling tales of its journeys to places I’ve never been. Mornings like this, Colorado reminds me of W. Virginia. Snow-clouds hang heavy over the city, obscuring the ever-present mountains. I must simply have faith that they are still there, still standing over us, watching and waiting forever. I cannot see them now, but then that’s the nature of faith, isn’t it? I love this place. I love that I can see the constellation of city lights from my kitchen windows. I love how the steam from the nearby power plant clings together and stays close to home when the temperature dips below zero. Sometimes that steam even turns to snow and falls right back down on us, as if to say, “Good or bad,...
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