An Unopened Medical File From a Colorado Lake House Clinic

dark shadows across Caroline’s porch. The air was cool, smelling of damp earth and late summer pine.

I sat in my wheelchair near the railing, the blue diary resting on my knees. Caroline came out carrying two mugs of tea, setting one on the small wicker table beside me.

“The lawyer called from Denver,” Caroline said, sitting in the glider chair. “He continue reading …