My Son Came Home Hiding a Burn From a Heated Belt Buckle—Five Wealthy Families Thought I’d Stay Quiet
I still live in the Oak Street house.
The window over the kitchen sink looks toward the same gravel driveway.
Every autumn, leaves collect near the mailbox.
Sometimes I remember the broken glass.
Mostly I think about raking.
Cameron visits.
When he does, he still complains that I keep bacon too long in the refrigerator.
He is probably right.