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

mug Harold had insisted I take home, its polished side reflecting the gray dashboard.

Alison stared at the silver travel mug, remembering how Mike had never let anyone else touch it.

I pulled my hand back from the shelf, leaving the metal cold and untouched.

At seven the next morning, the kitchen floor was cold under my socks, and the continue reading …