Work with hands Stories

Loneliness could do strange things to a person. In this hollow, the silence was interrupted only by birdsong and the bold creek that ran behind my house. I never dreamed I'd be a widow at fifty-two; if anything, I thought Henry would outlive me. Until the day the heart attack took him, he had the strength of an ox. My late husband had come from a well-to-do family, but he made sure we always lived within our means. I used...