Eight, not more than ten, head haloed in dark curls, she slept swaddled in a coat in a dented duct-taped Ford. And he sat,
Eight, not more than ten, head haloed in dark curls, she slept swaddled in a coat in a dented duct-taped Ford. And he sat,
Weeks, not months. We can’t be sure. You’re fifteen. Just learning winter. Drive reverse. Early March after