SANDRA BILLINGSLEY took a sip of Frascati, puckered her mouth, and shook her head. It’s true, she thought, it doesn’t travel. She stood and poured the white wine down the sink. She reached for the bottle of red Grottaferrata next to the bread box and poured a glass of something she knew. Continue reading
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SANDRA AND KAREN finished their orange juice, and looked out the window to the back porch. Their parents were deeply engrossed in conversation. Sandra could tell that the fathers were swapping war stories about their Army days, but she was surprised that the mothers were discussing an art exhibit at the Columbus Museum. Continue reading
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Sandra Billingsley recognized the sobbing voice around the corner. Someone was picking on Karen — again, she thought. She slammed her locker door shut and ran around the corner to the hall where the freshman lockers were. (*) Continue reading
