The Empty Chair The morning of the hearing I put on the charcoal dress I had owned for five years, the one I kept because Keith had long ago taken over the decisions about what I wore and when, and I stood in the bathroom mirror of my friend Diane’s apartment where I had been … Read more
The Trail She Left The Army gives you three days of emergency leave when someone in your immediate family dies. Three days to fly home, bury them, and return to service. They don’t say this unkindly, exactly. They just say it the way institutions say everything: cleanly, efficiently, in a way that forecloses argument. My … Read more
What the Buried Leave Behind Three hours ago I was nobody. A ghost. A girl the world had already buried and forgotten. My own mother had worn black at my memorial service, cried pretty tears for the cameras, and told everyone I was troubled, unstable, probably dead in a ditch somewhere. Then she took my … Read more
The waiting room at St. Aurelius Medical Center had the particular quality of midwinter afternoons in that part of the city, a gray, fluorescent sameness that flattened everyone inside it into a common category of waiting. The chairs were the institutional kind, hard plastic in a color that had once been meant to suggest calm … Read more
I woke up wrong. Not in the disoriented way of a bad dream or an unfamiliar room, but in the specific, body-level way of someone whose physical reality has been altered while they were unconscious. My head felt lighter against the pillow. Wrong. I reached up the way you reach for something you are certain … Read more
Build Your Own The video lived in that narrow, bruised space between memory and humiliation, the kind of thing that doesn’t just embarrass you but rearranges you. I wore my mother’s old apron because I always wore it, because the apron was a faded blue with tiny white flowers that had once been bright and … Read more
My name is Judith Santana. I am thirty-two years old, and I work as a billing coordinator for a chain of veterinary clinics in Covington, Kentucky, which means I spend my days ensuring that dog owners pay for their golden retrievers’ dental cleanings, a procedure that costs, on average, forty dollars more than my own … Read more
The gavel came down and the laughter followed it like an echo that had been waiting for permission. I stood at the defendant’s table in Courtroom 4B with my hands folded in front of me and listened to it. Not polite laughter, not the nervous kind that happens when a joke lands wrong in a … Read more
What Three Dollars Bought By the time Adeline and Silas Carter pulled their old Honda off the county road and onto the gravel lane beside the Jenkins estate sale, they had exactly three dollars and a little change between them, one extra sweater folded in the back seat, and a paper sack with crackers they … Read more
The Quiet Man My grandfather was the quietest person in every room he ever entered. Not shy, not withdrawn, not socially inept the way people sometimes describe quiet men to soften the observation. He was simply a person who had decided, at some point in his life, that most things did not require comment, and … Read more
