He nodded and slipped the letter into his coat instead of the briefcase.
It was a small distinction, but I noticed it.
For once, neither of us let Nathan set the pace.
We sat quietly until Rosa turned on the lights, and the windows reflected three chairs together.
We left Nathan’s slice in the center of the table.
Rosa unlocked the front door.
Families from the hospice began entering.
We left Nathan’s slice in the center of the table.
Rosa looked at the three chairs, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with one more fork.
