The Distant Whispers
The scale reads forty-two pounds of mail, three hundred and twelve individual envelopes, and one final, heavy parcel for Martha. I have counted them twice, my fingers slick with sweat despite the chill in the post office, because the hands do not stop trembling. They have not stopped since the doctor said the nerves were failing, that the small muscles in the fingers would give out before the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews