A Simple Seven Egg Painting on a Plate Changed My Family Forever

your father’s brother, Clara,” I said, looking out over the dry, brown fields that lined the highway.

We drove back to the house in silence, the truck tires humming against the asphalt while the autumn sun climbed higher in the sky.

The air was cool and crisp, carrying the dry, dusty smell of harvested corn and falling leaves.

When we pulled into the continue reading …