Blue Bottle From a Small Pharmacy Prompts a Search for Answers

throwing long, thin shadows across my backyard.

David was already there, his old work boots caked in damp clay as he stood near the edge of my flowerbed.

He was holding the garden spade I had borrowed from Gail back in September, before the world went sideways.

The wooden handle of the spade was worn smooth where Gail’s palms had gripped it for years,continue reading …