Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

I owned.

I set the mug down and reached into my pocket for the small digital voice recorder Raymond had lent me. It was no larger than a pack of gum, its black plastic casing smooth and cold against my fingers. I pressed the small circular button on the side until a tiny red light flickered twice and stayed solid.

“Test,” I said, my continue reading …