Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

of his briefcase closed, the sound like a small pistol shot in the quiet office.

“The locksmith left the spare keys with me,” he said, turning toward the door. “I’ll be at the diner if you decide to sign the loan extension.”

I stood by the desk for a long time after his car gravelled down the driveway. The office felt too large now, the walls lined with continue reading …