Behind the Venue, My Husband Handed Me a Scrapbook Pulled From the Dumpster

a small cardboard box with soft corners sitting on the porch, and on top of it an envelope with my name in Barbara’s handwriting.

I carried both inside and sat at the kitchen table. The envelope held a single piece of cream-colored paper. I found these in my attic. I think I finally understand. May I come over to talk. Just Barbara.

The box was light.continue reading …