A Tin of Old Photographs Revealed Why a Best Friend Kept Helping

it caught the glare from the window.

“I found this mug in the garage and thought it should be here,” Harold said, not looking up as he stirred his tea.

I reached out, my fingers stopping just short of the black plastic rim. “This was Mike’s.”

“I know,” Harold said, his voice dropping into that deliberate, quiet register. “It belongs with family.”

“It was continue reading …