Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

a drop of titanium white drying on the tip of the bristle.

“He told me he was in Columbus all day,” I said.

Raymond put his glasses back on and stared at me, his eyes magnified behind the lenses.

“He was not in Columbus,” Raymond said.

By five o’clock, the wind had turned cold, carrying the sharp scent of woodsmoke from the chimney down the street. I continue reading …