She Was Sitting In My Front-Row Seat Holding My Novel — Smiling Like She Had Stolen My Life

Late fruit is sweetest, she would tell me.

It has survived more weather.

Then came the final announcement.

The one even Anna did not know.

The moderator smiled toward the side aisle.

“Our first fellowship manuscript is a work of nonfiction testimony about coercion, ambition, complicity, and public shame.”

A murmur moved through the room.

My hands folded in continue reading …