My Son Called at Midnight About the Blanket His Wife Threw Away

”

He meant the marriage.

Maybe also the rest of it.

I looked at the wet dark window over the sink.

“Not by me,” I said.

Morning Comes Ugly

He stayed another hour.

We called my banker, Frank Doyle, and left a message for first thing in the morning. Ethan took photos of the checks and bonds, front and back, while I held them flat with the sugar jar. He asked continue reading …