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

ran over the small, rough nick near the handle where it had hit the linoleum weeks ago. I did not hide it in the back of the pantry this morning. It sat right on the front row of the shelf, fully usable and clean.

The kettle began to whistle, a low sound that grew into a steady, warm hum. I poured the hot water over the orange pekoe tea bag and watched continue reading …