Six Hand Drawn Sketches from the Summer of Nineteen Ninety Two

is manageable, Evelyn.”

“It is not manageable,” she snapped, checking her watch yet again. “You are living on a fixed income, and I cannot keep helping you cover the gap.”

By three o’clock, the afternoon sky had turned the color of wet slate, throwing long shadows across the concrete plaza of the agency building.

I walked back into the lobby, past the continue reading …