Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

for Frank’s call,” I said.

“Frank is a retired zoning lawyer who works out of his basement,” she said. “He cannot stop a computer in Seattle from filing a default.”

She unscrewed the cap of the silver pen and held it out to me.

“I cannot let us both go under for the sake of some old pencil lines, Mother,” she said.

I took the pen from continue reading …