Reflection: I Have Stories to Tell
The last two things I remember about the day I left Knoxville forever were gripping fear and a cameo of my ex-husband’s backside as he stood before the kitchen sink with the tap open. He was washing his hands (metaphorically too, I suppose) while the morning sunlight filtered through the stained-glass window framing him; I hoped with all my might he was bawling, but I … Continue reading Reflection: I Have Stories to Tell