Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

thousand four hundred,” I said.

“We don’t have it, Mother,” she said, her voice fast and light. “But Gerald’s representatives are waiting at the escrow office downtown.”

She pulled a folded document from her leather purse, along with the silver Parker ballpoint pen Arthur had given her when she finished her residency.

“If you sign the continue reading …