I didn’t hear him. Not at first. I was just staring at the chrome on my handlebars, thinking about the price of gas…
They dressed her in her favorite pale blue dress and placed her in a small white coffin. The doctors, with their somber faces…
The morning after they buried my husband, a soldier, I drove home to find his parents changing the locks on our front door.…
The sunlight had this perfect, hazy quality, the kind you only get in late August in Oregon. It filtered through the big maple…
The knock on the guest room door was so soft I thought I’d imagined it. It had been two days since the Incident.…
The sharp smell of antiseptic was a suffocating blanket, mixing with the rhythmic, mechanical beeping of the heart monitor. It was the only…
I drove without direction. The world outside the windshield was a blur of neon and rain that hadn’t started falling yet. I drove…
I tried to tell myself the t-shirt in her laundry basket meant nothing. It was a plain white T-shirt, one of Mark’s, with…
That night, Clara, my nurse, was apoplectic. “You’ve lost your mind! You gave a homeless vagrant your address? He’s probably casing the house…
The silence in that garden wasn’t just quiet. It was a vacuum. It sucked the air from my lungs, the blood from my…