
Dead, buried, but not forgotten
Someone told me a while back that people die twice. Once when they physically expire and again when their name is spoken for the last
Someone told me a while back that people die twice. Once when they physically expire and again when their name is spoken for the last
I met a woman once who had survived the concentration camps. I was in awe of her. She was old and frail, but feisty. It
I’m sitting here in a my hotel room in Belgrade, looking at myself in the mirror as I type (yes, I touch type). I have