The Only Door That Opened When the Others Closed

shadows across the rows of empty folding chairs.

Marcus, the art instructor, sat at a long folding table covered in paint splatters, sorting through a stack of pamphlets.

He was a tall man with silver hair and a quiet, deliberate way of moving.

“Spread them out here, Ivy,” Marcus said, clearing a space on the table.

Ivy laid her charcoal continue reading …