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Mario Napieralski

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Max Brooks
“Seriously, like Steve Jobs playing the orchestra,*8 my orchestra is this land. When you’re here, surrounded by it, connecting to it on a visceral level, you realize that that connection is the only way to save our planet. That’s been the problem all along, destroying the natural world because we’ve created so much distance from it.”
Max Brooks, Devolution: A Firsthand Account of the Rainier Sasquatch Massacre

“The contemplative clinking and methodical chewing are a little weird, but it is proof that souls are housed
inside the physical body.”
Tom Hillman, Digging for God

Harold Phifer
“Once Pastor Keith hit a crescendo, Sister Gertrude would rise and jump, scream, kick, dance, and pass the hell out. Obviously, she required physical restraints to minimize damage to other parishioners and a cleanup crew for the broken pews, discarded clothing,mangled jewelry, and loose items strewn about. Yes, it took an army of ushers to physically restrain her. She was twice as big as a man. No one smaller than Shaquille O’Neal could take her down. Well, I became her parasite and First Responder. Whenever I saw aglare in her eyes, twitch in her neck, or frown on her face, I knew to move into position. But for me, getting injured was a badge of honor. I just had to be a part of her fiascos. Yet, on one Easter Sunday, I got more than I bargained for. When our youth choir created a stir, Sister Gertrude went haywire. First, she reverse dunked her grandbaby into my breadbasket. Once again, she knew I would be there for the airborne toddler. Second, a whole orchard of mixed fruits flew over my head. Third, a scarf, blouse, wig, and shoe were diverted my way. Finally, a bevy of oversized Ushers and Deacons twisted, pulled, and sacrificed themselves before Sister Gertrude went lax. It was the most outrageous display Zion Gate Union had ever seen. Mind you, she was never a disappointment for a would-be reverend like me.”
Harold Phifer, My Bully, My Aunt, & Her Final Gift

“The devil wins only through lies and deception.”
Kathryn Krick

Dawn Chalker
“   At one side of the creek, she builds a small cairn of stones underneath a large, oak tree.  “In remembrance of Aunt Beca,” she says.  “Thank you for all the things you taught me.  For all the times you listened when I needed someone to talk to.  For all the love and support you offered me.”
Dawn Chalker, Lost and Found

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