Three Green Notebooks Left in a Cedar Chest on Elm Street

off the glass.

“A man’s name is all he has when the wood is gone,” he said.

We drove down the state route in silence, the bare fields stretching out on either side of the asphalt. The corn stalks were broken and brown, left to rot in the mud until the spring plowing. A small flock of starlings rose from a ditch as we passed, their dark bodies turning continue reading …