Spring

Spring is wonderful in Michigan. The snow melt signals that the warm weather has arrived. Flowers begin to bloom. Birds and squirrels appear out of nowhere, ready to embrace the new growth all around.

Jenny steps outside, bracing for the biting wind, only to realize she has on too many layers. Her watch says it's 60 degrees, the warmest day of the year so far. When she moved to Kalamazoo for grad school, she'd worried the winters would be too intense. Growing up in Atlanta, she was seven the first time she saw snow.

The only problem: It's January 12th.

Another Broken Heart

They'd warned her. They told Sheila that he wasn't boyfriend material, let along worthy of marriage. But she hadn't listened. Sheila believed that if she stuck with him, Greg would prove them all wrong. He had hidden layers.

Then Greg decided it was over, and here she was in tears. The same thing had happened again. Her girlfriends didn't need to say, "I told you so." Her therapist didn't need to remind her of repetitive behavior patterns.

Greg wasn't the one. And thinking that he might be after their first date said more about her than it did about him.

Flake

Everyone considered him a flake. He had a way of chipping away at you until you gave in out of frustration or boredom.

You know how onions have many layers, and you have to keep peeling away until you get to the center. The thing is, all the layers are the same. You aren't discovering some hidden core that no one else knows about. It's still just onion.

At least with rock there's a chance you'll find a rare metal.

When Janine from accounting decided to marry him, we felt sorry for her. But I guess she really likes onions.

Layers

Her mind acts as warden, keeps her in her room most days.

She confesses to me that one week straight, she huddled in the dark base of her closet. She had built a nest within, its four tight walls comforting her like an eggshell: no demands made upon her, no chance to fail.

I ask what she will need if she comes home. She cannot answer, and so I build a table with layers of blankets both over and under it, where, like the Princess, she can feel despair creeping in even if it is the size of a pea.

From Guest Contributor Laura Lovic-Lindsay

The High Priest's Attendant

He was charged with carrying the great scriptures. It was a position that afforded him great respect.

The scriptures were placed into five stacks, each of which was enclosed between two layers of tanned sheepskin. Each stack was then rolled tightly so as to prevent air from reaching inside. The five rolls were stored in an iron chest and covered with cotton and dried cayenne to repel pests.

For many years, he had traveled in the high priest's retinue, the heavy chest strapped to his back. Yet, not once had he read a single word contained on those sacred pages.