Every day of the school year my older sisters walked down the street to the corner where the yellow bus rumbled and roared up the hill, screeching to a stop. Sometimes Mommy and I walked down our street on warm, sunny days to watch them go.

Worldview. It's how I see, read, and understand my world. It's the lenses I look through, and like most people, I don't realize I'm wearing them.

For me, the title is the neat, welcoming picket fence that defines my boundaries. When I'm drafting the gate is open to almost any and all words, but eventually some of those words are shown the sidewalk …

My grandfather had a gentle heart, patient Southern drawl, and slow-moving ways. Mommy’s daddy towered over everybody, and his lanky, six-foot-eight frame ducked through doorways…

If an author crafted thoughtful paragraphs and no one's eyes found the web page to take them in...

I was thinking about water—different kinds of water. Water can be completely still in stagnant puddles. It can be strong and forceful in  the motion of white-capped waves.