The children return to school. A quiet, like a familiar blanket pulled snug, settles over the house.
Tick, tick. The second hand cycles the clock face. Sheila sets her Grisham novel down, reaches for her tea. She frowns at the cold cup. Continue reading Leaf
The timing was poor. Still it couldn’t go on as it had. She woke up and realized the person she had become was empty, a hollow shell. It had to be done. Maybe he would understand someday. Or not.
She owed him a face-to-face, so she called on the phone. He said he would be right over, unsuspecting she thought.
Continue reading Alone