Valiant Scribe
A literary hub giving voice to the voiceless by retelling the human experience

“Ms. Stafford,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry to startle you, but they told me at the hospital that you found me that morning and called for the ambulance. You saved my life. I wanted to stop by to thank you.”

Second Sunday of Lent. Confession prayer, and my fingers are consumed with unweaving my eldest son’s TheraPutty from his liturgy booklet, pressed in some moment of sensory need to the perforated part where you share contact details and prayer requests.

For the collection: 'Life in the time of #COVID'. for them counting breaths in strange seclusion, in complex friendship with oxygenating...