My Brother Said One Sentence in the Bank Lobby

coffee.

The heavier kind.

The kind that fills every empty chair with a question nobody wants to ask out loud.

Two rows of untouched plastic seats stretched across the room. A muted talk show flickered on the TV overhead. The smell of disinfectant and stale coffee hung in the air while I sat there gripping Lucy’s stuffed giraffe so tightly that one of continue reading …