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

He had gotten it recently, copying my dead husband’s ink to bind himself to our lives.

Alison stared at the photo of nineteen year old Harold, his ear completely clear of the compass design.

I shut the tin box and pushed it deep into the kitchen cupboard, the metal scraping against the wooden shelf.

By ten o’clock the next morning, I was sitting across continue reading …