guns

A velvet patterned Thanksgiving dress drops over my bulletproof vest. Sports bra over black mesh restricts buckle bulges. The vest’s bulky belt further puffs flaring skirt. Meant to hold guns,…

I view my father’s death through kaleidoscopic glass. The shape of things, the colors, the images, I twist my hands around and they all blend together, morphing into mutants of…

When my parents drove me from Dallas to New York City for college, we hid one of Dad’s handguns in the compartment under my feet in the back seat. I…

Discussing the presence of guns in games can be rather ridiculous since they are already so seemingly pervasive and central to the medium. When examining particular games, it’s almost a…