After three days, my husband comes home with the moon pillow, still in its plastic. I don’t know how he paid for it. Maybe he didn’t. “For you,” he says. Nothing else. He’s stopped explaining his disappearances and...
Moon Pillow
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After three days, my husband comes home with the moon pillow, still in its plastic. I don’t know how he paid for it. Maybe he didn’t. “For you,” he says. Nothing else. He’s stopped explaining his disappearances and...