Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

the grey gravel.

She was holding three plastic water bottles, her leather purse slung over her shoulder.

As we came closer, her fingernails tapped a sharp, rhythmic beat against the side of one of the bottles.

She stopped tapping when she saw us walking side by side, Arthur’s stride long and even, without any limp or hesitation.

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