Jonas hadn’t spoken to his brother in six months. Their last conversation - if shouting could be called that - ended with a slammed door and Jonas sitting on the kitchen floor wondering how love could curdle into hatred so quickly. He was exhausted: exhausted by arguments, by politics, by the constant clamor of people’s opinions sharp enough to draw blood. So when he saw the poster for UVPI - The Unified Voice for Peace and Inclusion - fluttering at a bus stop, his chest uncl

The morning started with spilled coffee. Not the poetic kind of spill either - no symbolic slow-motion shattering, no artistic steam...

Suddenly Kezo’s whole world tilted. He who had championed diversity now found himself the outmoded face of privilege. No one wanted to hear him reminisce about the golden age. They called him a relic and accused him of normativity.

This is an updated version of a previous post of the same name from 2019.

Working for God is never easy. Aubrey wiped the sweat from her brow and turned back to her camping chair in the shade where her water...