Blue Bottle From a Small Pharmacy Prompts a Search for Answers

my beige LeSabre in the corner of the asphalt lot, the dry maple leaves scraping against the tires as the wind caught them.

“I have to find that mail receipt, David,” I said, staring at the clinic’s beige brick facade.

“We will look into it,” David said, opening the passenger door for me. “But not like this.”

By three o’clock that afternoon, the sun had continue reading …