Our room swallowed light whole. Even in summer when sunlight glared through the windows, it was somehow dim inside. Now it was only Easter morning, and the muted sky of early spring offered scant relief...

Courage is the chiaroscuro of characteristics. By that I mean I don’t know what I mean.

Today I’m feeling uncharacteristically chiaroscuro, and I don’t know what that means for my future, or as a word.