Chris DeLine

If only as a gesture of ushering history into the past I walk through the doorway. You’re busy, with too many customers for one person to handle. The register rings and the line slowly turns over. I slip back outside, still unsure if you’ve seen me. Talking with a familiar face by the entrance, it […]

Travel back here to find solace, she says. This is a place to be cherished, visit when you feel the need to escape, make frequent visits in your mind… In the moment it seems so real, so genuine, so inspirational. These moments manufacture believers.

“The habit of excessive novel-reading and theatre-going will produce true monsters in this line. The weeping of the Russian lady over the fictitious personages in the play, while her coachman is freezing to death on his seat outside is the sort of thing that everywhere happens on a less glaring scale.” —William James What a […]

“Matilda had never once stopped to think about where Miss Honey might be living. She had always regarded her purely as a teacher, a person who turned up out of nowhere and taught at school and then went away again. Do any of us children, she wondered, ever stop to ask ourselves where our teachers […]

The moment You escape the womb the struggle begins over who’s more important, You or Her. You grip to self-importance and fight to pull away from Her only to later take comfort in a series of others. That is, until one too many self-spoiled relationships justifies a brushstroke so careless that it dehumanizes an entire […]

She looks up from her hymnal long just enough to lose her place. No one’s listening anyways, she tells herself, before gently closing the book and returning it to its home. Her voice is beautiful. As she stands there, the chorus echoes throughout the sanctuary, alive with song toasting the trinity. The organ’s massive pipes […]