David Cameron Writes

  Loren was a member of the Navaho nation, otherwise called Diné by those who are members. He was a frequent visitor to the church I served in Albuquerque. I think he was unhoused, though he may have had minimal shelter somewhere. He would usually have a piece of cardboard on which he had drawn stylized symbols combining Native American symbols like an eagle feather with Hallmark card art like a valentine heart. He sometimes wanted to talk, but he usually just wanted to sell his art for $5 and leave.  One Sunday he came by the church five minutes before worship started. I was already robed and at the door greeting arriving church members and guests. He came and wanted to talk. I apologized that I couldn't at the moment, but I invited him to either join us for worship or go back to the reception area and have a cup of coffee and a cookie. He grew angry that I couldn't talk right then, so he started yelling, "Fuck Jesus! Fuck Jesus!" I couldn't reflect on the conten

 This is my love letter to New Mexico. The chile harvest in Hatch, NM was always a statewide celebration as chiles were distributed through the state and roasted in large rotating metal baskets over gas flames in gas station parking lots and other sites throughout town. The fragrance of roasting chiles has recently been approved as the state aroma of NM.  Chlle Heaven was published in Rural Fiction Magazine. https://RuralFictionMagazine.com It was the farthest north she had ever been, but it was nowhere near as far north as Clementina wanted to go. She had learned from maps that north was up. She had learned from lying on her back looking at clouds that the sky was up. She had learned in science class that the moon was in the sky up beyond the Earth’s atmosphere. She had learned in church that heaven was up somewhere beyond the moon—even beyond the stars. Clementina wanted to go north to heaven and see her abuela; stand beside her again at the cracked Formica-topped ki