Arthur pen drawing of hidden animals decided who kept the lake cabin

the air holding the faint scent of the woodsmoke from the woodstove I had not cleared out since Friday.

I sat down at the pine table where Arthur and I had eaten our breakfast for forty years.

The shadows grew longer across the floor, turning the yellow pine to a dull grey.

I touched the edge of the table where Arthur had carved a tiny letter A in the continue reading …