She sighs, runs knobby fingers through graying hair. The increasingly wiry strands slide silky still through veined hands, and she smooths them down, twisting them into a tight knot just above the nape of her neck. Surveying the scatterings of UPS boxes, packed a little heavy for professional movers, she wonders at how a woman’s entire life can be reduced to the wreck and rubble before her. 

Or not.                  Continue reading →