He came into the room and he had no idea that he wouldn’t be leaving, at least, not the same way in which he had entered. It wasn’t that kind of room. The kind a person can just up and decide to retreat back the way they came. She was already there. Sitting. Believing. That’s
Late-September 1929 The blade struck the log with a limp swing of the old man’s ax. He didn’t split the log as was his intention. The log was rather like a road forked at an imposing tree; yeah, just like that. The ax stuck stubborn, handle staring back at him mockingly, reminding him of just
