Thirty Veterans in Leather Vests Arrived at My Front Door on Tuesday Morning

under Tommy’s small wooden bed to find his blue plastic bin, my fingers brushing against something hard.

It was his green plastic dump truck, the one David bought him at the county fair the year before he died.

As I pulled it out by the plastic cab, the rear axle caught on the metal bed frame with a dry snap.

The rear wheel rolled across the linoleum,continue reading …