The Volvo That Never Lied
The sign on the door of Brakebush Garage said CLOSED — PRIVATE SERVICE in hand-lettered red paint, and it had said the same thing on the first Tuesday of every …
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The Confession Board at Hollis Technical
The break room at Hollis Technical smelled of burnt coffee and the cherry air freshener that the night crew sprayed on the vending machines every Monday, as if the machines …
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The Blue Envelopes at the Hartwell Post Office
The Hartwell post office had one counter, two brass-framed windows, and a wall of brown post office boxes that Ellis Dunbar had polished every Friday for twenty-two years. The lobby …
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The Small Kettle on Sunday
The hot plate in Aunt Verna’s studio at Maple Crest had two burners, and on every Sunday morning, both of them were in use before nine o’clock. The larger burner …
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The Meter That Runs at Midnight
At 11:58 on a Thursday night in March, Court Street in downtown Millbrook, Indiana, was as empty as a church parking lot on a weekday. The streetlights hummed in their …
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The Bench by the Ice Machine
At ten minutes to four in the morning, the only lit thing on Route 9 between the county line and the lake was the sign for Palmer’s. It hung on …
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The Leaf Pile Contract on Delmar Street
By four o’clock on the third Saturday in October, the sugar maples on Delmar Street had gone the color of a struck match, and the whole block smelled of cold …
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The Reserved Date at Greco Auto
The appointment book lived on the back counter of Greco Auto, under a clear plastic cover that had yellowed to the color of weak tea. It was not a computer …
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The Retiring Pastor and the Food Pantry
The fellowship hall at Trinity Episcopal Church in Cold Harbor, Oregon, smelled of sheet cake and burnt coffee and the lemon polish the altar guild had used on every folding …
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The Bricked Doorway at Grace Lutheran
The cold came down the hallway like something with a grudge. It was the third Thursday in January, a little after four in the afternoon, and the light was already …
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