“Harry… Harry…”
The voice was muffled, barely audible.
Who was Harry?
A foaming mess of memories flooded into his head, a tidal wave of information he could barely comprehend.
The wave retreated, leaving a simple truth washed up amongst the flotsam and jetsam.
He was Harry.
Continue reading “Last Stable Backup by Ed Dearnley”
It was late afternoon when Margaret’s doctor told us that her condition was deteriorating, that it was time to talk options. Mom sat closest to Margaret’s bedside, with her back to the window. Dad and I hunched forward in taupe, plastic chairs positioned around the foot of the bed. Margaret’s doctor stood in his white lab coat opposite Mom, a clipboard resting on his waist.
literally stories 