My Mother-in-Law Sat Me by the Service Door

wrestle with a heat lamp on the patio. One of them smacked the side of it with a dish towel. It flickered back to life.

That felt about right.

My handbag was one of those structured black ones that look smaller than they are. Inside: lipstick, phone charger, a pack of mints, two pens, and the navy folder David had handed me at 5:42.

I took it out.

The continue reading …