The Realtor Read One Name and My Stepfather Stopped Laughing

the back.

Dad would’ve made fun of my first attempt and then handed me the right drill bit without a speech.

At sunset I rehung the shadow box in the living room.

Not where Richard had dumped the nail holes.

Where Dad wanted it. Over the stone fireplace, level with the mantle.

When I finished, I stepped back.

The cabin looked like itself again.

Not healed.continue reading …