He Found His Injured Wife While Their Son Laughed In The Kitchen

the other the pastry box.

Sarah was on the floor.

She was sitting up against the base of the sofa with one hand pressed to her right eyebrow. Blood had trickled down her temple and soaked into the collar of her cream-colored shirt. It had dripped onto the rug we bought for our twentieth anniversary, the one she always made me step over when my shoes continue reading …