The Police Showed Up Before My Husband Could

felt like a hotel room with bad history. I switched on the light.

Rows of shirts.

Sport coats he wore twice a year.

A pair of cowboy boots he bought in Nashville and never broke in because they pinched.

There was a suitcase on the floor of the closet. Smaller one missing. So he’d packed for the weekender version of running away. Not the forever version.continue reading …