Said the wrong thing when they needed the right one?
Looking back now, I can trace our entire life to one ordinary October evening and a decision I made before I understood what it would cost.
The porch light outside my apartment was flickering when I came home from a double shift.
I smelled of sawdust, metal shavings, and machine oil from Finch & Nail Hardware, the small shop beneath the apartment where I lived in the fictional town of Bramblewick.
My keys were already in my hand.
I was thinking about cold leftovers and the futon that never opened properly.
Then I nearly tripped over three infant car seats.
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