My Mom Flies An Fighter Jet

to come back.

Mom exhaled. Hello, Aunt June.

I stared at her. You told me Aunt June lived in Arizona.

I lied.

Aunt June looked me over. This the boy?

Mom nodded. Aunt June’s expression softened for half a second. He has your eyes. Poor kid.

Inside, the cabin looked ordinary at first. Old plaid couch. Woodstove. Books stacked everywhere. A framed picture continue reading …