Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

a mug of lukewarm tea sat near his elbow, untouched.

“The sun is trying to break through the clouds,” I said, setting my purse on the counter. “Why don’t we walk around the block before lunch?”

Arthur did not look up from the page. “The dampness is settling in my joints today.”

“It is sixty-five degrees outside, Arthur,” I said, leaning against the sink.continue reading …