My Son Made Plans For My House Until I Said One Thing

kitchen I ever rented. A ticket stub from a movie neither of us could ever remember seeing.

The smell of cedar came up like a hand on my shoulder.

Under the photographs was a folder. The deed to the house. One page, official, a little yellow at the fold.

Grantee: Holly Forsyth.

One name. Mine. Alone.

Walter had put it in my name years ago, for tax reasons continue reading …