An hour or so later, the sun coming up, Delph said, “Here’s what I think. Midnight. New Year’s Eve. It’s a good idea. We skip out before this whole Y2K thing. Meanwhile we have about six months to write that book we’ve always wanted to write. About the three generations.”
That’s how it began. We thought we’d write about Lenz and Richard and our mother. Those deaths. Not ours. Read more…