by Frank Gaimari The house is quiet tonight. There’s just one lamp on, trying its best to hold back the darkness, but honestly, it feels like the darkness is winning. Outside, life rolls on — cars pass by, someone walks their dog, and I can even hear a television down the hallway. But here in my condo, the silence feels heavy, like the house is … Continue reading What Matters Most: An Essay on the Eve of Chemotherapy