Tag Archives: dot the is and cross the ts

On her deathbed she asks me if I can still play  the piano, and begins to sing of jasper roads. I search the linen for for­got­ten cro­chet nee­dles  she swears are under the cush­ions.    Her hands nev­er stop mov­ing, trem­bling out  … Con­tin­ue read­ing →