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

in a church pew.

I pulled out the shoebox, now frayed at the corners from being opened so often. I handed him a stack.

“Pick one at random,” I said.

He shuffled through, finally pulling out a card that read, in Clara’s shaky script, “You surviving this long does not make your pain less real. It makes you remarkably stubborn. I like stubborn.”

His face continue reading …