Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

If he did not, I would pick up the brass key, pack my books, and start a new life on Maple Street.

I leaned my head back against the cushion and watched the bare branches of the maple tree sway against the streetlamp, waiting for the Friday deadline to arrive.

Clara sat next to me on the vinyl chairs, her leather purse resting on her knees. Her fingernails continue reading …