
Locks of Love
Nov 3 · 12 min read
Days-dead leaves crinkled underfoot, the hors d’oeuvres of autumn laid out for passengers puttering off the 6:03 into Stratford. Jack inhaled like a ravenous idiot, his throat cinching with asthma. The wonders of the season, the dangers of the season, the backyard fire pit that awaited him for Monday Night Football. Maybe Sally would dress herself in Steelers garb, the Polamalu headdress she’d worn last Halloween. Yeah, maybe she’d plop down beside him, pay some…


