Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

office.

“One hundred and thirty over eighty-two,” David said, pumping the rubber bulb once more before letting the air hiss out. “That is the lowest reading we have seen from you since the spring, Artie.”

“My legs still feel like lead,” Arthur said, though he did not grumble the way he used to when we discussed his health.

David took the stethoscope from continue reading …