Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

with a bright red border drawn directly around the plot of land where my Victorian house stood.

By noon the next day, the brochures were tucked back inside the cardboard box in the hallway, and I was ladling chicken barley soup into three stoneware bowls in the dining room.

The steam rose between us, smelling of celery and salt, but continue reading …