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

Oregon leaves at ten past ten,” Beatrice said, her voice a low, soothing whisper that barely carried over the hum of the display cooler.

“I poured the coffee,” I said, pointing to the two thick mugs on the counter.

We sat on the tall wooden stools near the window, where the autumn sun was finally strong enough to melt the frost on the glass. The coffee continue reading …