Touching Story

The wealthiest man in Ohio didn’t die in a mansion surrounded by doctors. He died at 3:17 AM on the cold linoleum floor of Northwood High, Hallway B, right next to a humming vending machine. For six hours, his body lay there unnoticed. The automatic floor buffer kept spinning in lonely circles against the gray […]

My son called 911 at 6:45 this morning to report a grand larceny. He told the dispatcher his basement had been stripped bare by a “professional crew.” He doesn’t realize the thief is his own father. I’m currently sitting in a beat-up Ford F-150 at a rest stop off I-95. I’m drinking gas station coffee

I found the first sticky note on the antique grandfather clock while the hearse was still pulling out of the driveway. It was bright blue, and in bold Sharpie, it read: “MARK.” I walked into the dining room. There was another note on the china cabinet: “JESSICA.” My mother had been dead for exactly three

The flashing red and blue lights were blinding against the cheap vinyl blinds of the apartment window. It was 2:14 AM on a Tuesday. My phone was buzzing on the coffee table—a relentless, angry vibration. It was my son, Robert. When I opened the front door, a young police officer had his hand hovering near

The wealthiest man in Ohio died last Tuesday at 3:17 AM with exactly twelve dollars in his pocket. For six hours, his body lay on the cold linoleum floor of Northwood High, right next to the vending machine in Hallway B. The industrial floor buffer was still running, spinning in lonely, wild circles against a

The man in the three-thousand-dollar suit looked at my hands and asked if I was there to fix the air conditioning. My hands are thick. The knuckles are scarred from busted wrenches, and there’s a permanent line of grease under my fingernails that no amount of scrubbing can remove. I looked at his hands. They