Sixty-three Year Old Widow Refused to Hide Her Gray Hair at Work

what is behind it.”

I walked back to my Buick, the autumn air cool against my face.

I sat in the driver’s seat and adjusted the rear-view mirror, staring at the silver roots that parted my dark hair like a frozen river.

The brass handle of my desk drawer did not give when I pulled it the next afternoon.

It was not locked, but the track continue reading …