He Thought I Would Make A Scene At Two In The Morning Until Everything Changed

right before it gives way. I passed the Sandersons’ maple tree, now bare and spare against the pale sky, and thought about the last time I had parked under it. The trunk lights off. The quiet engine cooling. The sound I was trying not to make.

I pulled into my own driveway, on the gravel, not at the curb.

The stones crunched under my tires and I let continue reading …