Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

pot, his right hand stiff, before his eyes fell on the stapled document. He squinted at it, his hand hovering over the handle of the glass pot.

“What is this, Martha?” he asked, his voice thick with morning congestion.

I sat down, placing my hands flat on the table, feeling the slight grain of the wood beneath my palms. “It is a sixty-day marriage agreement.continue reading …