The Start of Hope – Part 4

Beautiful but Unlikely

milford view 2

After the Donna happening I sunk in deeper and deeper; there would be no painless extraction from this point on. It was an early Wednesday evening, just past seven. Ross and I were driving to his house in Milford, first to drop off a few boxes of donated clothes as there was no room for them in the office, then to go out to dinner. There was a clam shack a few blocks up from his house that he wanted me to try. The best fried clams around (whole bellies, not strips) and steamers. I had helped load up the car after stopping by the office after work and . . . besides, we both had to eat, right? Ross, annoyingly, still found it necessary to have some stated explanation for our being together. Alone in the car with him—his old Oldsmobile—at the mercy of his ramshackle driving and the…

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