Author: michael crawley

THE PARTY

A petite woman named Caroline sat alone against the back wall of the large room. The party was in full swing, but no one came near her. In fact, people rarely even glanced in her direction, making her feel as if she were invisible. Everyone else was talking and laughing, engaged in animated conversations. There … Continue reading THE PARTY

REFLECTIONS

In the early summer afternoon, seven-year-old Carter Stevens stood transfixed as he stared intently at his reflection in the calm water. Because of his autism, he was mesmerized by mirrors, windows, or anything else that reflected his image. Out here in the fresh air, his senses were relaxed. He felt the warm sunlight on his … Continue reading REFLECTIONS

THE PRISONER OF WAR

By the middle of 1966, Thomas Hutchinson had been flying jets off an aircraft carrier for almost a year. For the twenty-nine-year-old Navy Lieutenant, it seemed like no two missions over Vietnam were ever the same. Each one had its own special form of risk, but this one had been particularly difficult from the beginning, … Continue reading THE PRISONER OF WAR

LIGHTS IN THE DARKNESS

Someone I did not know has died. So why should it matter to me? Early each morning, I drive by a long-term care facility on my way to work. My route takes me over a hill, and when I reach the top, the sprawling structure is barely visible in the predawn shadows. But once every … Continue reading LIGHTS IN THE DARKNESS