Ruth Holzer: FULTON STREET

I didn’t know anything; I thought if I cooked a hot meal every night, kept our two-room apartment clean and enlivened it with decorative touches—Japanese prints, Indian throw pillows here and there—that he would care for me as in the early days, or at least stay a little bit longer.
.

wisps of fog—
breaking up
the joint account

by Ruth Holzer
Herndon, Virginia