From Issue 14: Ryan

C.C. Russell I catch you staring across my desk this morning.  In photographic grey-scale, you are nearly a man now.  In memory, initially, I always see you as that tiny boy, the day we moved to New York. You stared out between the slats of your stairway railing, asked me the question that adults don’t…

This content is for Subscriber members only.
Log In Register