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

it had all evaporated into the autumn air.

I got into the driver’s seat and turned the key, the engine catching on the first try with a quiet purr.

I drove home slowly, watching the orange leaves fall from the maples along Elm Street.

When I pulled into the driveway, Clara’s blue sedan was already parked near the garage, the windshield catching the afternoon continue reading …