დ Elara დ
The drive back from the courthouse felt longer than it should have. Thirty days. The number sat in my chest like a stone I couldn’t swallow or spit out. The radio tried to talk to me about the weather and traffic, but I turned it off and let the vineyard pull me home in silence. At the house, the porch boards gave their usual small complaint under my weight. The screen door dared to slam, and I caught it at the last second because I couldn’t take one more thing sounding final. Inside, the air held the faint sweetness of grapes and lemon cleaner. Sunlight lay in strips across the hall like someone had cut the day into pieces. I walked past the room at the end. I didn’t look in, but the shape of it tilted the floor under me anyway. Sheets I had washed three times, like soap could
