Augustina. “Yes…?” He stood for a moment, looked down, shook his head, and laughed. “What are you laughing for?” Because you always say,...

This habit of his. Sticking his hand into his right pocket to let his fingers dance with the heart-shaped locket his grandmother left...

"You need to stop denying you're a writer," she said as she stood in my doorway. Part of my mind considered her somewhat of a bitch. She...