When Wally asks me to punch him in the stomach, I try not to hold back. I let it rip. I set my feet like he taught me to, draw back my fist, and deliver a blow to the spot he's pointing at—right above ...  [+]

My dad came home from work and sat on the black leather couch in the living room. He always sat in the same spot. He always looked tired. Every night went the same: first work, then couch until the ...  [+]