Six Pairs of Thick Gray Socks Saved My White House on Elm Street

moving slowly.

“We were just talking about the winter weather,” Sarah said, not looking at my face. “It is supposed to freeze tonight.”

“It usually does in December,” I said.

Clara reached over and touched my wrist. Her hand was warm, but her grip felt tight, like she was trying to keep me from falling.

“Brenda stopped by my house this morning, Martha,continue reading …