Blue Bottle From a Small Pharmacy Prompts a Search for Answers

up the folded document from my legal pad once more, holding it near the kitchen window where the morning light was strongest.

My finger traced the faint red ink stamp dated September seventeenth, a date they claimed did not exist.

David did not knock twice, which was his track coach habit when he wanted to save time. He stood in the entryway of my living continue reading …