She had the whole morning planned down to the minute. She’d give a quick report to the morning shift, transfer the drug key to the day nurse, and then pop into the locker room and change. The drive over would take twenty minutes, she’d timed it, and she would walk in the door with five […]
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The heavy rain and dark clouds meant she couldn’t see the garden out the kitchen window. Yet she remembered clearly the sight last spring of a white-tail deer nibbling her pea plants, and her husband rushing out swinging a dish towel to scare the thing away. Three shrill beeps from the coffee pot interrupted her
“The problem with strong-willed children is that no matter what you do you’re wrong.” “What do you mean?” Sarah measured her words carefully, as she was determined not to waste her therapy hour sobbing, again. “Well if you punish them or tell them no, they tell the world they were abused. If you give them
