He stood in front of the huge black Edwardian door awaiting an answer. The frosty morning air crept closer into his bones sending a shiver down his spine. He’d regretted that Christmas hair cut the minute the clippers touched his neck. His head now felt...

Asphalt tires glided us along the black sea of the Interstate. My vision had become blurry, tired from the constant repetition of the white line, a dotted Morse code along the center of our path. We’d spent several days in Memphis: tourists indulging in the...

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