The Faded Attic
The ledger had forty-two pages, and Elara counted them twice, her fingers slick with the damp that had seeped through the roof. She wanted the number to be different, but the ink was black and the totals were final. The farm debt stood at twelve thousand dollars, a sum that weighed heavier than the wet shingles she had hauled to the attic floor to patch the breach. Her husband, Thomas, had died...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews