Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

stapled with a white receipt.

I pulled it out, the paper crinkling in the quiet kitchen.

Inside was a small amber plastic bottle with a white safety cap, bearing Arthur’s name and the date from three days ago.

I held it up to the light, the small white tablets inside shifting with a heavy, distinct rattle.

The label indicated a thirty-day supply of the continue reading …