Blog

The Envelope She Never Opened

Aurora Sterling

She never said his name after 1971.Just kept one photo on the dresser, and one envelope behind the frame.Her granddaughter ...

The Vietnamese Orchid

Aurora Sterling

She never asked about the flower.It bloomed once a year—then wilted in his hands.Every Thursday, he watered it like clockwork.Now ...

The Blanket from Quảng Trị

Aurora Sterling

It smelled like cedar. And gunpowder.The quilt was a gift from his daughter—stitched from old uniforms.But the dog wouldn’t leave ...

The Road to Huế, and Back

Aurora Sterling

He wrote the same postcard every year.To an address that hadn’t existed since 1975.No one ever wrote back.But this year, ...

The Dog Tags in the Barn Dust

Aurora Sterling

He told his son to burn the box.Said it was nothing but ghosts and bad blood.But sons don’t always listen.So ...

The Widow and the Tape Recorder

Aurora Sterling

She hadn’t touched the attic since Harold died.But when the roof leaked, she went up—and found it.A dusty tape recorder. A ...

The House With the Yellow Dog

Aurora Sterling

Every morning, the yellow dog waited on the porch. Even after the old man inside stopped answering the door. No ...

Her Father’s Last Parade

Aurora Sterling

He never asked for a flag, a medal, or even a “thank you.”Just silence, and a cabin deep in West ...

The Zippo That Wouldn’t Light

Aurora Sterling

He hadn’t touched it in fifty years.The old Zippo, scratched and silent, engraved with just a word: Forgive.It hadn’t sparked since ...

The Medal in the Tackle Box

Aurora Sterling

He never spoke about the war.Not to his wife. Not to his kids.But when Emma opened the tackle box, she ...