Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

elbows, holding a roll of brown packing tape.

The kitchen smelled of clean drywall and the faint, sharp scent of lemon floor wax.

“This is the last of the kitchen boxes,” Clara said, setting the tape down on the counter with a soft thud.

I lifted a yellowed sheet of Seattle Times newspaper from the top of the crate, revealing the rounded continue reading …