Julie D. George - digivonae.com

PART 1 The suit came across my counter on a Tuesday morning in June, nineteen years ago. It...

PART 1 I worked the breakfast and lunch shift at the Prairie View Diner off Old Route 66...

PART 1 For twenty-two years, my father kept a painted metal sign hanging in the front window of...

PART 1 The edges of the picture had curled upward fifteen years ago, baked stiff by the afternoon...

PART 1 My daughter, Clara, called just after 8:00 on a Thursday morning. I was standing on a...

PART 1 I take the same three pills every morning at eight. The pharmacy fills them on the...

PART 1 The strike hit my back with a sharp, sickening crack beneath the crystal chandelier, and Isaac...

PART 1 The envelope arrived three weeks before commencement, but the phone call came two days later. I...

PART 1 For eleven years, my Thanksgiving routine never varied by more than ten minutes. I woke up...

PART 1 The private dining room at Rustler’s Rooste smelled of mesquite smoke and sweet barbecue sauce, overlooking...