Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

was seventy-four, a retired attorney who spent his mornings eating saltine crackers from a sleeve and drinking lukewarm tap water. He was Gerald’s second cousin, but he had a quiet streak of independence that made him look at his relative with a cold, clear eye.

“The corporate board met in Seattle at midnight,” Frank said, leaning back in his creaky continue reading …