The alarm rings. I’m exhausted and I haven’t even woken up yet. Outside my bedroom, a door slams and a suitcase rolls past. A man is talking in the loud voice people use on mobiles. I turn over. The pillow is square, French. I open one eye. The light is Mediterranean bright. I had theContinue reading “Chapter 1 – A Wine Saleswoman”
Anne Burchett Writes 