Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

The coffee maker on the counter finished its brewing cycle with a dry, metallic rattle, a sound that always meant the heating element was failing again. My son Julian stood by the window, his shoulder pressed against the window frame while he watched a solitary crow on the telephone wire.

I poured the dark roast into my yellow ceramic mug, the one my continue reading …