We were going to meet every Sunday after church service, Christians and sinners alike till we got the job done.
I’d pull back the curtains and stare at the headstones in jagged rows beside a vacant hot dog factory.
I couldn't say it—the word on the screen. The only word I could repeat was it, it, it.
I wonder if, years later, Montana will seem like a blip—or the beginning of the rest of my life.
Those mornings shivering at the mean edge of the public pool were worth it for the moment when you’d slide into the deep end.
