Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

that might never be written.

“He has twelve minutes,” Clara said, her voice cutting through the low hum of the fluorescent lights.

I did not look at the round white clock above the receptionist’s desk. “He knows the time, Clara.”

“Stubbornness does not cure a sixty percent blockage, Martha,” she said, tapping her index finger twice on continue reading …