Six Sisters and the Blue Ledger on Oak Street

” Harriet said, her voice remaining in its customary flat monotone.

She did not look up from her numbers as she tore off the paper tape.

“We have not paid the salon telephone provider since July.”

I rubbed my left wrist, feeling the heavy gold watch that had belonged to our mother.

“There must be some delay in the mail, Harriet,” I said.

“A three-month continue reading …