Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

went to the basement cafeteria to grab sandwiches.

I watched the courthouse security guard lock the back gate, his keys clinking against his belt.

I had brought a small apple in my purse, but I did not feel like eating.

I sat looking at the high wooden bench, thinking of the yellowed ledger sitting in my desk drawer back at the G Street office.

When the continue reading …