Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

shadows across the water of the inlet.

I went out to the balcony with my paper cup, the coffee cold now but still half full.

Clara stayed in the kitchen, her soft footsteps moving between the cupboard and the sink.

I could hear the water running again, then the clink of the blue porcelain cups as she set them in a row on the shelf.

“Are you coming inside?continue reading …