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Category Archives: Martha
by Martha Grover Her faded blond hair, streaked with gray, hung down past her shoulders. She smiled at me and said, “Hello,” in a voice that spoke of years of smoking, “do you bargain?” She glanced over to where a … Continue reading
by Martha Grover Our fifteen-year-old son, William, was hitch-hiking home for the holidays from school in Vermont. He had his skis, ski poles, boots and books in hand, his clothes in a duffel bag. He had sold the four gallons … Continue reading
by Martha Grover “Don’t let me fall,” I whispered, trembling, as my father held me in his arms over the open grave. I was three. My earliest memory. I don’t recall my sister, her funeral, nor her life. I remember … Continue reading
by Martha Grover I look out at several dozen people gathered on the runway. I don’t see Mother and Dad. It’s dark, but there’s enough light from the terminal and cabin windows to know they’re not there. “Richard,” a woman … Continue reading