My Parents Told Us To Get Lost In The Snow Until My Phone Started Ringing

storm arrived. The wind woke me at two in the morning with the quality of an old sound, something familiar from the archive of bad nights, and I lay still for a moment assembling the present from the past, locating myself correctly in time. My apartment. My bed. My key on the hook by the door.

Mia appeared in my doorway with her quilt, the one Rebecca continue reading …