AT 37, I SAT IN A SPOKANE COURTROOM WHILE MY SOON-TO-BE EX-WIFE SMILED LIKE SHE’D ALREADY TAKEN MY HOUSE, MY KIDS, AND EVERY LAST PIECE OF MY NAME
I was thirty-seven the morning the bailiff said, “All rise,” but I’m fifty-six now and I can still hear it like it happened last week. Some sounds don’t fade. They…








