(Seattle, Washington) The white dust of packing boxes coated Sharon’s fingers, but for the first time in a decade, her chest didn’t feel constricted. She taped down the final box labeled Living Room and wiped her hands on her jeans, looking around the bright ranch house she’d just bought. Down below, the clear, freezing, greyContinueContinue reading “Peace and Grandma Cherry by Coletha Albert”
