My first time working for my new employer, I had yet to see a day of sun since the Mississippi. The train had arrived in a cloud of low-hanging, foul black soot that matched the smiling mouths of some fellow patrons I tipped my head to along the way. What had been a normal blend ...

There is an old cigar shop on the edge of Cedar Hill Park with boarded windows and doors on the side near the crest. The passersby complain about the eyesore, though the house is unsure of how they or it know about the old cigar shop without signage. Inside the house, the people’s furniture and ...