Down the block from Linda’s home, there was a cemetery. Its southern gate faced her street and stayed open daily until dusk. On afternoons when Linda’s mother lay down with one of her headaches, Linda took a sketchbook to the graves.
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Short Story: When Linda Sketched the Dead
Halfway Down the Stairs published one of my short stories last week. The link to it is here. The opening paragraph:
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