Miriam Found a Reflection in a Mirror That Ended Her Marriage

call Ronald, the phone that received our monthly utility bills, the phone I had known for five years.

I stayed in my chair, my hand resting near the edge of the Vermont brochure.

The kitchen was quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the faint clinking of a saucepan on the stove.

“Did you find the cinnamon, Arthur?” I called out.

“It was continue reading …