When I was a boy, my grandmother was a famous seer in our small town. I was in awe of her. She claimed the gods never died, that they still spoke through her. Others would come from far away to hear their fate or feel close to them. Sometimes I would listen through the […]
This is a members-only post on Ricochet's Member Feed. Want to read it? Join Ricochet’s growing community of conservatives and be part of the conversation. Get your first month free.