Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

pale, flat white under the desk lamp.

“What is this, Martha?” he asked, his voice very quiet.

He did not look up at me. He kept his eyes fixed on the bold letters at the top of the first page.

“It is a lease agreement for the townhouse on Maple Street,” I said, keeping my voice steady.

“You signed this on the fourteenth of August,” he continue reading …