My Dad Kicked Me Out at 28 and Ten Days Later My Phone Would Not Stop Ringing

the flower bed and folded them. I retrieved the winter coat. I gathered the childhood photographs one by one from the damp grass, pressing the mud out of the corners as best I could. I picked glass out of a box of books where something had shattered. I carried load after load to the trunk and the back seat without speaking, without hurrying, without continue reading …