When Eleanor Lost Access to Her Own Money, Everything Changed

on the passenger seat.

The Buick rattled over every dip in the road.

Frank used to call her “Big Blue,” though she had faded to the color of washed-out denim.

The driver’s seat still held the shape of his body more than mine.

There was a butterscotch candy in the ashtray even though neither of us had smoked.

There was an old gas receipt from 2009 tucked continue reading …