Thirty Years and One Day

  “Where’s my cell phone?  Have you seen my cell phone?” He looked at me with vague recognition as he gripped the edges of the overbed table and turned his torso with effort. “Don’t strain,” I said, “I’ll help you find it.” I searched through the nightstand and standard issue bedspread, reeking of bleach and staleness and under a chair.  And as I brought my head back up from the floor to meet his, it dawned on him. “It’s you.” With folded arms he turned away. He didn’t want me there.  I knew he didn’t want me there, but I … Continue reading