Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

silence, our fingers turning grey from the newsprint ink.

The kitchen was small, much smaller than the one in Olympia, but the light came in through the high west window and touched the linoleum in long, clean rectangles.

“We need to wash these before you use them,” Clara said, turning the copper tap.

The pipes gave a short, high whistle before the water continue reading …