The Message From My Son That Forced An Impossible Choice – The Archivist

They’d been doing this dance for years, some of them. Decades, for a few. They knew me. Knew my truck, knew my habits, knew I’d be out here before dawn working on something because I’d never been able to sit still.

What would I tell them when they asked where I was going? What would they think when security turned me away at the gate like some stranger continue reading …