An Unopened Medical File From a Colorado Lake House Clinic

the dock below.

“I had to squeeze the lemons,” I said, pausing before I answered to make sure my voice did not shake.

My mother, Jennifer, smoothed her linen skirt over her knees with both hands, her fingers moving in a rhythmic, repeating slide. The fabric was already creased from the car ride, but she kept pressing it flat as if she could erase the continue reading …