Deb Brandon: Living in Radiant Color

Memory Shards

Why won’t he help himself? Why doesn’t he bring his hands out from under the blanket? His bed is so weird—a box, covered with a thin blanket, pulled tight. Tucked in so neatly, too neatly. Hospital corners. All the other soldiers were laughing, chatting. Propped up in their rumpled beds. They wanted the candy I … Read more