Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

to me.

“I found these in my cellar,” she said. “They are some old green pears from the tree by the alley.”

“They look hard,” I said, touching one of the small, speckled skins.

“They need three days on the sill,” she said. “Then they are sweet.”

“Thank you, Clara,” I said.

We went up to the fourth floor together.

The sun was low now, casting long, purple continue reading …