Author: J. A. Bernstein


Issue 6 | Summer 2021 |

    He sat alone at his laptop, watching the moon blanch his keys. It was seven-thirty, late-April. His wife was upstairs in their room, sulking, though with a bit more gravity to her step. She was only thirty-six, and they had time for this, he knew. She knew it, too. She’d reminded him that …