My Daughter Went to the Father Daughter Dance Alone Until a Dozen Marines Walked In

windshield, the particular winter stars that Keith had known the names of and had tried to teach me on camping trips with varying success. I thought about the letter in Katie’s coat pocket and about the men who had driven to a school gym in their dress blues and learned the chicken dance and put their caps on a seven-year-old’s head and danced with continue reading …