Two Plane Tickets to Savannah and the Sixty Day Marriage Agreement

that morning.

Arthur stood over the table for what felt like several minutes, his breathing heavy in the quiet room.

He picked up the pen, his knuckles white, and scrawled his name at the bottom of the page.

The gravel on the municipal park trail crunched under our soles at exactly nine o’clock the next morning.

Arthur adjusted his windbreaker and looked continue reading …