Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

minutes, her heels clicking against the damp pavement as she paced.

“The buyers want the keys by five,” Evelyn said, her words rushing together as I walked up the driveway. “The holding company is already sending a cleaning crew.”

“I know,” I said. “I am only here to collect my personal boxes.”

Evelyn stopped pacing. She looked at the moving truck, then continue reading …