Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

was long, the heater in my sedan blowing dry, dusty air against my knees. By eleven, I was sitting in a windowless carpeted office at the Bank of Olympia, where the green-striped wallpaper made the room feel even smaller than it was. Evelyn sat in the chair beside me, her high heels tapping a fast, rhythmic pattern against the steel leg of the desk.continue reading …