In
Fiction by
William Delman /
May 17, 2019I’m staring at my mother. “What do you mean you’re not leaving?” We had just spent three exhausting days emptying her house ahead of Hurricane Zara’s impending landfall. Every computer, piece of radio equipment, book, antique, scrap of clothing, and bit of sentimental bric-a-brac is in the moving truck behind me. The autodrive is patiently […]