I love reading about the many ways the ghosts of our past can haunt us: in memory, in songs, in the person we glimpse in the rear-view mirror.

One wonders if Harold ever thinks of her when he watches his kids. It’s they, in a sense, who are the reason that he and Barbara aren’t together. And, while such an ideas is a bit of stretch, our protagonist does the radio off when driving alone because of her. She’s apparently only ever one reminder away.

Fiction and founder of the Hello, Author newsletter. Words at AuthorGreene.com 📗

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