The band sauntered toward the door with beers and instruments in hand — none of which could immediately help them with what they encountered next.
Being shot at seems a strange thing to celebrate, but everything seems a little strange in Afghanistan.
What I saw standing there was far worse. Jesus Christ!!!, I thought, it’s, of all goddamned things, a giant, well, Jesus Christ!!!
In the shadow of Homa Mountain, near the shores of Lake Victoria, long before I called the San Juan Mountains and southwest desert my home, I saw a tree shaped like Christmas and approached it.
Letters from actual Mountain Gazette readers.
