Blue Cotton Work Shirts Stitched Together for a Spring Dance

“Morning, Arthur,” he said. His voice had the flat, monotone quality of a man who spent his days reading trail logs and safety brochures to tourists who never listened. “You still up on the county road?” “I am,” I said, leaning against the wooden counter. “Twelve miles out, just where the old timber line starts.”…

“With a wrist injury,” I said. “That is what they said,” Frank said, picking up his coffee mug. “But I saw her at the grocery store that Tuesday, and she was carrying a bag of potatoes with both hands.” I thanked Frank and left three dollars on the table for his coffee. The walk to…

Marcus took the paper, folded it into a tight square, and slid it into his jacket pocket. He stood up, gave me a brief, tentative nod, and let himself out of the office. By three o’clock that afternoon, the sun had slipped behind the gray clouds that had been gathering over the lake all day….

“How long does a counter-petition take?” I asked. “Ten days for the filing, another twenty for the hearing,” Richard said. “I do not have thirty days,” I said. “The notice Ashley left on my door expires in less than two weeks, and my landlord on the apartment is already demanding a double deposit to extend…

Carter waited until Henry disappeared inside the glass doors of the gas station before he started his truck. He drove two miles down the road and parked in the lot of an empty hardware store, waiting for the hours to pass. At four o’clock, the afternoon light was beginning to fade into a cold purple…

“The restraining order gives Benson twenty days,” Vance said, tapping his pen on a photocopied page. “He is trying to keep you away from his office long enough to purge his records.” I adjusted my uniform collar, the starched fabric cutting into my throat as I stared at the timeline he had drawn in black…