Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

sixty percent coronary blockage.

In the right-hand column, I wrote the three-mile walking schedule we had started but never finished.

I tore a blank sheet from the back of the notebook, my fountain pen poised over the paper while the old mahogany grandfather clock in the hallway stood silent in the shadows.

“Arthur,” I wrote. “I am not going to beg you continue reading …