June 2018


“Honey, it’s just a little spider! Nothing to be afraid of. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Yes he would! He would hurt a fly! Hurting flies is basically what spiders DO! They paralyze them and suck out their still-living juices, and I want it out of my house!”

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“You’ve got to be especially careful of folks who project that kind of field,” Adams said. “They’re bad mojo.”

“Give me an example,” said Calhoun.

“There was this one guy, way back when, who was a private detective–you know, back when that was a thing you could do. Well, his field was especially strong, and it meant that he always found what he expected to find–in this case, murder.”

“He murdered people ith his distortion field?” Calhoun said. “That desn’t sound right.”

“No, no, no, he didn’t murder anyone. His certainty that there would be murder caused murders to happen. Always in a natural organic way, too. Simmering things would come to a head, someone would see something they weren’t supposed to, and then bam!”

“And how would anyone have known this was going on?” Calhoun said. “Murders happen all the time.”

“Yes, but a murder happened literally everywhere this detective went. In boats. In midair. Abroad, in whatever country he visited. At a certain point, someone ran the numbers after he died. The possibility of coincidence was statistically insignificant.”

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Q: Why did they put Susie on the cello without training her on a smaller string instrument first?

A: They didn’t want a history of violins on her permanent record.

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Sanctuary began as a simple crossroads, an abandoned farm that became known as a stop on the Underground Railroad. That all changed with the coming of the Civil War, which led to a major Union force encamping there for much of the conflict. A tent city grew up around the camp as former slaves and refugees crowded into the area, and by war’s end the first permanent buildings had been erected.

Though the immediate postwar years were a boomtown, such that it had a stone courthouse and the county seat by 1870, Sanctuary suffered tremendously after the end of Reconstruction and into the Jim Crow era, as it was known for being friendly and accepting for all races, colors, and creeds. From a post World War I low of less than 500 people, Sanctuary nevertheless saw its fortunes rebound during the New Deal and the immediate postwar era, with a massive influx of new settlers and residents looking for opportunities denied them elsewhere.

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I have loved you for 1,156 days.
From that moment,
You’ve surprised me,
Captivated me,
Challenged me.
I’ve fallen in love with you countless times,
Without reservation.
And today, I get to marry my best friend.
To love is not to possess,
To own or imprison,
Nor to lose one’s self in another.
Love is to join and to separate,
To walk alone and together,
To find freedom and comfort.
Together we will be ,
Who we really are – and always were,
In the very core of our being.
I promise to be true to you,
To uplift and support you,
To frustrate and challenge you,
And share with you all the beautiful moments of life.
Someday, if the stars align,
I might even laugh at your puns.
I know that my love for you will not fade,
That we will find strength in one another,
And we will continue to grow,
Side by side.
I believe in the truth of what we are,
And I will love you always,
With every beat of my heart.

I commit myself to you, filled with the love we shared during every night in spent on the couch, all the pixel-perfect worlds we’ve built together, holding your hand in an empty theater, and all the times we wrote together until our hands hurt. I pledge to love you always, with my whole heart and all my flaws, until the end of our days.

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