Ariel Lawhon

Sometimes rage is hot and explosive. But other times it is cool and sharp and vicious

She is a small woman, grown weak with age, but her anger pushes her forward, one indignant step at a time.

Baby lays his head on the hard knob of Anna’s knee. This is a thing he has done since he was a puppy. Whenever he finds her sitting for more than ten seconds at a time, he plops down on his haunches, drops his chin to her knee, and sighs like an arthritic old man.