BY SEAN DIETRICH Rome, Italy. The sun is rising over the City of Seven Hills. I am sitting at a cafe, not far from our hotel, editing a column on a yellow legal pad. I am here for breakfast, waiting for my wife to wake up.The Colosseum is just down the street. The old...

BY SEAN DIETRICH The man had a dream. In this dream, he died. It happened so quickly he almost didn’t know life was over. One minute he was alive; the next, poof, he was organic fertilizer.He went to Beulah Land. And it was the whole heavenly enchilada. Everything...

BY SEAN DIETRICH It was dark. The young dishwasher was on break. He was sitting behind the restaurant, out by the dumpster, tapping a carton of Camels on his palm.Like all dishwashers, he worked hard for junk pay. He was the first one there. The last one to leave. He...

This is not my story. But it was told to me by an old man who lived it.The year is 1987. Rural Alabama. Our main character is a young kid. He’s at a remote gas station. He tries to start his car, but it’s a no go. The car is deader than disco.So he’s sitting on the...