Chasing fear in the Yucatan jungle
My eyes darted across the canopy. My legs were trapped in strips of leather and iron buckles near my groin waist. I looked up. My hands hurt from the death grip I had on the rope that connected my waist to the line. My eyes…
The Value of Scars: What I learned about myself after hysterectomy
I didn’t want them there and yet here they were. Constant reminders that face me at least twice a day. The bridges of my fingers trailed each one. Four mounds, raised melanin hills a shade darker than the rest of me on the landscape of…
