The fire was still going when the drizzle set in this morning. That grey Westport light had settled in and it felt, for a while at least, like winter wasn’t quite finished with us. In comparison to the east side and the deeper South, the Winter here has been
The tap runs cold over the meat tray, and I turn it side to side, rinsing off the last smear of blood. I think about someone standing at a sorting line somewhere, hands moving fast, and I rinse a little longer than I need to, a small act of consideration
