Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

to every diner in town. The deep blue glaze was chipped at the handle.

I sat opposite him and laid the vellum sheet on the laminate table, right over his napkin. “This was delivered to my box an hour ago.”

Arthur adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, his eyes dropping first to the block printing on the discarded mailing envelope. His shoulders went rigid.continue reading …