Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

against my index finger, testing the skin where the paper callus used to be.

“It does not change the rent,” I said.

“It changes things,” she said.

“Only the small things,” I said.

Evelyn walked over to the counter and picked up one of the blue cups.

She looked inside, then turned it over to look at the blue ring on the bottom.

“Did he bring continue reading …