They Treated Me Like I Didn’t Belong Until the Seal on the Car Door Changed Everything

long dead by then, pressed between two pages of a book I kept on my desk in Washington. I had pressed them on the drive home from Northwestern, stopped at a rest stop and found the flattest thing available, which happened to be an old policy briefing I had been meaning to file, and laid the flowers between the pages and weighted the book with my jacket continue reading …