Framed By Family
Language: en
The first time I saw my ex-wife, Eleanor Shaw, again, I was getting jumped. Roasted sweet potatoes, kicked from my cart, scattered across the pavement. The woman I remembered as being timid, one who used to tremble when she spoke, rushed into the fray, her eyes blazing, and shielded me with her body. After the crowd dispersed, she turned to me, a flicker of exasperation in her gaze. "Is this what you’ve become since you got out?" I didn't answer. I just looked at her, at the designer clothes clinging to her slender frame, and spoke in a flat tone, "Freshly roasted sweet potatoes. Want to…