While I Was at Lunch With My Daughter My Neighbor Called and Asked Why Someone Was Loading Boxes From My House

in my home office had been disturbed. Small signs, the kind that only someone who had sat at that desk for decades would notice. The angle of the chair was wrong. My pens were facing the wrong direction. The thin layer of dust on my filing cabinet showed finger-shaped disturbances, visible in the afternoon light coming through the window.

Someone had continue reading …