Three Sisters Divided Over a Limestone Bakery Built in Nineteen Sixty-Eight

shoes clicking against the cold pavement.

Clara saw me first, her face freezing as she patted her hair.

Howard turned the ignition, his headlights cutting through the dark.

Without a word of greeting, Clara climbed into her own car and slammed the door.

I watched the sight of Clara’s car taillights disappearing down the dark street.

The bank lobby smelled continue reading …