Katherine C. Lund – Page 38

The recliner sat on the curb like it was waiting for a bus. It was a deep, mahogany...

The morning was humid, the kind of heavy, wet heat that hangs over our town like a damp...

The gravel in our driveway always crunched in a specific, hollow way, but that morning, the sound felt...

“Grandma, who was the man at the bank who cried when he saw your name?” Maya was only...

Is it too much to ask for an hour of peace in a place that serves burgers and...

The morning was humid, the kind of heavy, wet heat that hangs over the Missouri Ozarks like a...

The freezer was a wreck, plain and simple. It sat in the back of a woman’s carport in...

The envelope arrived on a Tuesday, thick and cream-colored, with calligraphy that made my heart ache just a...

I was wrong about how much a person’s word is worth. I spent three years believing that if...

The smell of my mother-in-law Carol’s kitchen was always the same. It was a heavy mix of overcooked...