“Roy, why are you wearing those pants? Those are the worst pair of pants you own. Why don’t you—”
“Mom, just stop. He’s probably using them as his trial pair. WHEN HE MESSES THESEContinue Reading
He wouldn’t hold my hand. Maybe it was flashes of my creamy skin through black crochet. The way I harvested salad from my plate. When he paid the bill, we stepped onto blue stone, merged with soupy air.
“Let’s walk…….if your feet will be okay in those shoes.”Continue Reading
MTM forwarded an email to me yesterday, a response to what he termed ‘a modest request.’ I’ve reproduced it below.Continue Reading
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