I bought the place sight unseen: two bedrooms, one bath, no neighbors. I bought it for the quiet--a place to be alone. First it was the radio: an old Glenn Miller tune. Then it was footsteps overhead, a rhythmic step and slide. I crept upstairs. A shadow crossed the sliver of light underneath the bedroom … Continue reading Last Dance
My mother doesn’t believe me. How I see you at night in that instant before my eyes adjust to the dark. I didn’t open the window. I didn’t move that chair. “Don’t leave me,” I had begged, graveside. It is just like you, you bastard, to listen this time.