Three Bags of Cashews and a Dishonest Sister In Law at the Wedding

satin.

“We had to take it in at the waist again,” Clara said, her hair twirling around her index finger as she looked at me. “Is the caterer’s deposit taken care of?”

I sat on the edge of the armchair, my canvas bag resting against my ankle. Inside, the bank’s notification envelope felt heavy against my notebook.

I slid the long white continue reading …