Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

motionless against the grey sky.

Arthur stopped, letting his chest rise and fall in a slow, even circle.

“He looks like he is waiting for the noon whistle,” Arthur said softly.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the first real expression of humor I had seen on his face since the middle of August.

“He is probably looking for some of that seed continue reading …