The summer of 1975 provided hot, sunny days and warm, balmy evenings in Detroit. Having a pool in our backyard meant late-night swims so we could go to bed and let the box fan in the window blow air on our wet hair, helping to cool us off enough to sleep. That was my parents’ idea of air conditioning. I never minded the heat. As hot as it was, it was nothing compared to the humid, tropical weather I experienced on my many...

A shiver crept up my spine as we walked into the haunted graveyard. Although it was broad daylight, there was something existentially eerie about walking amongst the dead remains in concrete tombs. We had come to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, but after enjoying the festive Krewe of Zulu parade earlier that morning, I’d gotten sucked into the tour after visiting Voodoo Authentica on Dumaine Street. “Come on,” my friend, Dian...

The giant blades of the turbines cut through the air almost silently despite their looming, ominous presence. Katarina stared out the window at them as she drove along Highway 402. This stretch of the road seemed to be littered with futuristic-looking windmills. Kat could swear they had doubled in number since the last time she’d driven on this road. Then again, it had been nearly four years since she’d last traveled acro...