Blue Bottle From a Small Pharmacy Prompts a Search for Answers

the maple trees.

David sat to my left, his fingers restlessly adjusting his wristwatch before he gripped the edge of the wood.

The clock on the wall read five minutes to ten, the second hand sweeping silently across the white face.

“How is Gail doing this morning?” David asked in a quiet whisper, leaning his head close to mine.

“She spoke two full sentences continue reading …