At Eleven, She Moved In. At Six, I Changed The Locks.

made plans with my labor,” I said to him. “In my house.”

He tried to take my arm. I moved it.

“Karen, don’t do that.”

“Do what.”

“This performance.”

I laughed again. He hated that laugh.

“A sheriff’s deputy, a locksmith, certified copies, and breakfast on paper plates. That’s not a performance, Richard. That’s preparation.”

Noon Gets Closer

By nine-fifteen,continue reading …