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

that used to make me reach for the nearest wall. “I think I should get back to Elm Street before the afternoon traffic starts.”

Greg did not stand up to walk me to the door, but his eyes followed my ankles as I crossed the rug.

I rode the local bus home, the heater under the seat blowing a dry, dusty warmth over my shins. The ride was only three miles,continue reading …