Whenever Joanna heard the drone of the phone hanging up, she regretted not hanging up first. Yet, every time, she stayed on the line, just in case he had one more thing to say.
There's a section of New York State, on the eastern border of Lake Ontario, where the town names make you feel like you've gone around the world.
I read the names out loud to my two-year-old daughter—Mexico, Syracuse, Rome, Poland—as I watch the snow swirl around the dark streets outside the bus windows. We are traveling from Gouverneur, New York to Everett, Massachusetts. It is my daughter's first Greyhound bus ride, and it is my first time returning home after running away from my abusive ex-husband.