I was sprawled across her couch. The candles flickered. It was the eve of my last day at the coalition where we worked. We were musing on what my next …
He was five. And perched on the back of my chair, peering over my shoulder as I pecked at the computer. It was late afternoon. I was sending an email …
2009-2015 © Tisha Pletcher. All rights reserved. Select photography by Misty Pittman.
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