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

on a new medication? A steroid?”

“No,” I said, reaching for the kettle.

“The state examiner will look at your prescription history, Mother,” she said, her fingers twitching near her watch. “If you are hiding a new diagnosis, it will only make things worse on the fourteenth.”

I kept my trousers pulled down low over the thick gray cuffs of the socks, hiding continue reading …