The faded blue paint on the hood of Arthur’s old truck had always caught the morning light in a way...
The train was scheduled to pull out of the Birmingham station at 11:42 in the morning, and I had my...
The green ledger book on my desk had a water stain near the corner that looked just like the map...
Opal hadn’t thought about the time capsule in sixty years. Back in the spring of 1965, the senior class of...
The dead bolt on my front door made a heavy, rusted clunk that echoed down the quiet hallway when I...
The notification light on my old flip phone blinked twice against the grain of the oak workbench while I was...
The green LED on my desk clock flickered 12:04 when the export finally finished spinning and the PDF dropped onto...
The gravel on the drive out to Dale and Martha’s place always crunched a little too loud under the tires,...
The smell of wet wool and cold asphalt always stays in your coat lining long after you step inside, no...
The Tuesday quilting circle at the community hall has always smelled of steam irons, damp cotton batting, and whatever herbal...
The kitchen always had a particular kind of silence to it around four in the afternoon before Mia came home...
The house always had a particular kind of quiet to it when the sun hit the front porch boards around...
The grey primer on the hood of that old sedan had started to flake off in little silver scales right...
The kitchen used to have a particular sort of silence to it around four in the afternoon. It was not...
The telephone receiver felt heavy and cold against my ear, its plastic casing smelling faintly of the lemon disinfectant the...
I always get it wrong when I try to measure people by what they owe me, starting with the exact...
How do you measure five years of your life when the people who birthed you decided you never even started?...