After Returning a Lost Wallet From My Mechanic Shop a Sheriff Came Looking for Me

who had died when I was twenty-eight and who had taught me to fix engines in the garage on weekend mornings, who had believed that knowing how to fix something was a form of self-sufficiency that nothing else could fully replicate. I told him about my mother and about the triplets and about the specific texture of the life I was trying to build, and continue reading …