An Unopened Medical File From a Colorado Lake House Clinic

small brass key in the lock and slid it back into his pocket.

“Now go help your mother,” he said.

I stood in the doorway, watching my father lock the desk drawer with a small brass key.

The kitchen smelled of damp pine wood from the crawlspace below, a low, earthy scent that always seemed to rise when the morning hummed with high-country heat. I stood continue reading …