nonfiction

Stars

Tilya Gallay Helfield

After the wartime regulations were published in the newspapers during World War II, my mother told my father in no uncertain terms that she had quite enough to do sewing blackout curtains for the rest of the windows in the house, so he could just paint our cellar windows black. I remember scraping holes in the paint so I could peek inside. At night, the wartime blackout was so pervasive I imagined that God had painted the sky black like our cellar windows, and then chipped away a bit of the paint here and there so He could spy on me through the twinkling hole-stars. [Read more...]

Under the New Mexico Sky

Emilie Karrick Surrusco

It’s a hot June night in Farmington, New Mexico, just after last call at the Turnaround Bar. A 36-year-old Navajo woman named Betty Lee hangs up the pay phone at the 7-Eleven convenience store across the street. Frustrated and angry because her girlfriends have left her stranded, she has called just about everyone she can think of to beg for a ride back to her home in Shiprock. [Read more...]