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by
Amy Harmon
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September 29 - September 29, 2021
he was like water—cold, deep, unpredictable, and, like the pond up the canyon, dangerous, because you could never see what was beneath the surface. And just like I’d done all my life, I jumped in head first, even though I’d been forbidden. But this time, I drowned.
I wanted to run from her. But at the same time, I spent all my time thinking about her.
People liked religion but they didn’t want to have to exercise any faith. Religion was comforting with all its structure and its rules. It made people feel safe. But faith wasn’t safe. Faith was hard and uncomfortable and forced people to step out on a limb.
We never saw what was obvious until we were hit over the head with it.
I pondered the fact that maybe none of us are safe. Not truly. Not even from the people we love. Not even from the people who love us.










































