He Yelled When I Refused To Buy His Mother’s Fancy Groceries

our backyard had gone deep green again, the herbs were thriving on the windowsill, and one Friday evening, six months after the grocery store, I sat on the back porch with iced tea and finally reached page eighteen of the novel that had sat stalled on my nightstand since November. The yard smelled like cut grass and garlic drifting from the kitchen,continue reading …