An Elderly Woman Warned Me Not To Touch The Snow—The Next Morning, I Understood Why

I now knew he’d been planning to sell. The floors I’d swept. The laundry I’d folded. The nights I’d waited up, listening for the sound of his truck, worrying about black ice and drowsy driving and the hundred ways a man could die on a highway in the dark—worrying about a man who, it turned out, was more dangerous to me than any road.

The illness I’d continue reading …