An Unopened Medical File From a Colorado Lake House Clinic

she had offered me all week.

“The coffee has chicory in it,” Caroline said, setting my mug on the small iron table between us. “Your uncle used to buy it by the case from a distributor in Denver.”

“It smells like real coffee,” I said.

I reached down slowly, lifting my left leg an inch to shift my weight. The sharp, binding pull in my continue reading …