When a Scruffy Little Dog Refused to Let an Old Woman Disappear

“I don’t have roommates. My landlord already knows I sneak him into the hallway when the weather’s bad and pretends not to see it.”

I took a breath, feeling the weight of what I was about to say.

“I can’t be Clara,” I said. “I’m not eighty, I don’t write wisdom on index cards, and my coffee will never be as good as whatever she brewed at home. But I continue reading …