She Thought Changing The Locks Was Enough Until Everything Changed

to show where they belong.

I put them back on the mantel in the order they had always been in, which I knew because I had looked at them my entire life.

Then I went to the kitchen and made tea the way my mother had made it, loose leaves in the ceramic pot she had bought at a shop in Gloucester the summer I was twelve, the one that had a small chip on continue reading …