At 7:20 a.m. My Bank Manager Said There Was Six Figures of Debt in My Name

named Linda had come for the first time. Seventy years old, hands folded tight in her lap, her son had stolen nine thousand dollars from her over eight months. She kept saying: but he’s my son.

I sat beside her. I had learned that sitting beside was more useful than sitting across.

“The worst part isn’t the money,” I told her, and I meant it the same continue reading …