Tommy Dean To celebrate the divorce, her husband drove his new motorcycle up and down their oak-lined street, each rip of the engine a reminder of why she left. Early fall, she stood on the porch, arms crossed, the porch lights shrouding her from the glares of the neighbors. Standing…

Michelle Nichols There was a tremble in the old woman’s voice over the phone. She told me her grandson had found Mother’s cat from one of my flyers. My sick grandson, she said in a way that made us both pause. “A white cat with one blue eye,” I said….