Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

cold morning.

“I haven’t,” I said, stepping onto the porch.

He set his coffee down and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out his linen handkerchief and began to polish his wire-rimmed glasses with slow, methodical circles. “Sit down. Tell me what you found.”

I remained standing, leaning against the wooden railing of the porch.continue reading …