My Seventy Eight Year Old Neighbor Gave Me A Key To Her Shed And I Was Not Ready For What I Found

and had spent the next thirty years sculpting the face she was afraid of forgetting.

I told my mother about the shed then. All of it. The sculpture lying on the worktable with the face that was hers and mine together. The sketches dated across three decades, the same face appearing in pencil over and over from 1995 forward, drawn with the devoted repetition continue reading …