My Husband Burned My Hand on the Stove

“It’s the kitchen,” Patricia said. Her voice had gone high and tight, like a child’s. “It’s – Daniel, it’s us. Right now. It’s a livestream.”

“What?”

“Howard Linsky just texted me. He said – he said is this a joke.”

Richard finally turned around on the couch.

“What’s happening?”

Nobody answered him. Daniel was scrolling on Patricia’s phone, faster and faster.continue reading …