Second Chance, Deadly Trap

my tomato patch under the hot Nebraska sun, liv

nd horrifying, washed over me – memories o

band, the man who disappeared seven years ago, now limping up

a cold, hard stone, because I remembere

had drained their life savings, how I'd sold my mothe

cret city wife and her gambling debts, then, when the m

n sharks he brought to our door, leaving us with nothing but as

urvived that

d the same practiced look of sorrow, mouthing the s

in the winter, of seeing my mother-in-law cr

t let it h

fe; I would make sure he walked into a trap of his