My Husband Left Me In The Car While I Was In Labor So He Could Go Fishing

to six I was on Route 81 heading north toward Scranton, seventy miles to my mother’s house and the beginning of whatever came after. The sun was starting to come up over the Pennsylvania hills, and Lily May was asleep in the back, and the radio was playing something old and soft that I did not recognize but found steadying.

Brent got home at twenty-three continue reading …