Blue Bottle From a Small Pharmacy Prompts a Search for Answers

back door at nine o’clock the next morning was too brisk to be Gail. I set my teacup down, the ceramic clicking against the laminate counter, and walked slowly toward the kitchen entry. My left calf still pulled with that stubborn, deep tightness, a constant reminder of the clot that now lived inside my vein.

Through the glass pane of the door, Regina continue reading …