During Robert’s Funeral, My Sons Stood By The Casket With Dry Eyes And Perfect Black Suits…

believe they had won.”

That sentence stung like a betrayal. But I also understood.

I have never known how to lie. Robert always told me since we were young that my eyes were like windows without curtains. If I had known he was alive, Richard would have figured it out before pouring me my first cup of coffee.

We arrived at a small, run-down motel in an continue reading …