Rebecca

The landing at the top of the stairs sounded the loudest lament. Her fingers traced the expansion and contraction lines on the white-washed plaster walls as she took the first steps slowly, navigating the bowed and weakened wood on the stairs. The house and her family were accustomed to her. Read more

The March on Washington

“Call her.” Bo steers their late model Buick into the dirt driveway with one hand and flicks her Camel out the window with the other hand. “Regina worshiped President Kennedy. She won’t refuse a call today. Someone dies, you want a phone call.” It’s Bo’s week to chauffeur herself and Read more