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

small room, her purse strap slipping down her shoulder. She tapped the edge of the mahogany desk with her fingernails.

“Doctor, we need to talk about her neurological decline,” Brenda said, her voice reaching that high, desperate register. “The balance issues, the numbness, the nighttime confusion.”

“There is no neurological decline, Brenda,” Dr. Albert continue reading …