Dave is talking to himself as he practices. “Oh, Dave.” Then he plays some more, then “No…no.” It sounds strangely detached, like he’s not surprised, just disappointed. Django is in her bed. Her new portrait is on the mantel. We picked it up at the memorial service for Fern today, because the artist drove in […]
Tag Archives: Fern
Summer is coming
Dave says he’ll take care of the Brigadoon reservation card, which arrived yesterday with some other mail I ignored because I’d gotten a package. He carried it into the kitchen, where I was cutting open the box from Coastal.com — my free glasses, which turned out to be sort of horrible because the frames were […]