Julie D. George - digivonae.com

PART 1 The hospital courtyard was freezing, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back inside. My coat...

PART 1 My mother had her hair done every Friday morning at nine o’clock for thirty-two years. Same...

PART 1 It was an ordinary Tuesday morning at the Walmart Supercenter on Route 4. I was standing...

PART 1 When our daughter Maya turned three, I started touring local preschools. I wanted her in a...

PART 1 At exactly 5:58 on Sunday morning, the metal deadbolt rattled. The key slid into the cylinder,...

PART 1 The first week after my husband retired from the Army, he woke at 4:47 every morning...

PART 1 I was in the middle of a client presentation in Phoenix when my phone kept vibrating...

PART 1 I never told my late wife, Martha, about Margaret. It wasn’t because of guilt or shame....

PART 1 The envelope was taped flat against my eleven-year-old daughter’s bedroom door at eye level. It was...

PART 1 The smell of polished oak and damp raincoats always brings back the damp chill of the...