Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

paper and the hum of his small electric heater.

“The signature on your ninety-two contract is definitely a forgery, Martha,” Frank said, setting his tea mug down on a stack of deeds. “But a judge will not stop a transfer of title based on a photocopy of a thirty-year-old draft.”

“We have the physical proof of the mismatched eyes on continue reading …