by Valorie Quesenberry | Sep 8, 2018 | bookstore, coffee, college Bible college, freshman, library, romance, roommates, siblings
Sonoma slapped the cover of the book shut and stared out the window. The campus of the little Christian college was pretty in the autumn. Sugar maples and oaks scattered colorful leaves like a child shaking glitter from a bottle. The afternoon sun cast a tawny glow...
by Valorie Quesenberry | Feb 23, 2018 | coffee, jungle, love, missionary, New England, short story, wedding
Bistro tables scattered at angles on a plank floor. Book-lined shelves flanking a stone fireplace. Leather chairs placed in little nooks. A glossy counter scuffed with years of scrapes from coffee mugs. Normally, it was the kind of place that Rayne Hartwell would...
by Valorie Quesenberry | Jan 16, 2018 | abortion, babies, coffee, hamburgers, hope, January, pregnancy, sanctity of life, short story, special needs, waitress, White Castle, winter
sliders by the sack I work the night shift; eleven to seven. That means I see a sampling of the people, vocations and tragedies in my city. Nurses on their way home from the ER or surgery or cancer ward stop for a high-carb snack. Garbage truck drivers come in...
