Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

on the corner sign read three dollars and forty cents.

“My daughter is parking the car,” I said.

“Evelyn called me from her office yesterday,” Greg said, not looking at my eyes. “She asked about the payoff figures.”

“She didn’t tell me that,” I said.

“She was asking about the quick-sale exemption,” Greg said, closing the folder with a soft click of the continue reading …