Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

I moved toward the two green wicker chairs.

The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of woodsmoke from a neighbor’s chimney down the block. The tall maple tree at the edge of our yard, the one Arthur had complained about for years, was a brilliant canopy of orange and red, its leaves catching the final rays of the sun.

I sat continue reading …