Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

placing my handbag on the floor.

“I know where you were,” Evelyn said, interrupting me before I could explain about the draft. “I had to call Gerald’s assistant this morning to apologize for your behavior.”

I stared at her, my hand freezing on the paper napkin. “You called Gerald’s office?”

“Of course I did,” Evelyn said, her eyes scanning the room. continue reading …