I love Kim Gray’s pieces =)
It was a typical Saturday, which meant market day at our house. My sister and I had finished our breakfast and were sitting around the table with Dad who still wore his pajamas. While Mom put another coat of hairspray on her head, Dad pulled a file folder of the buffet. This was a move usually reserved for dinner time.
In the evening as we ate supper Dad often shared a case he had been working on that day. And yes, these stories often included photos of a homicide. They were in black and white and he’d pass them around like wedding photos, pointing out the locations and people involved. Murder isn’t so gory when it’s not in color. I must have been at least sixteen before it occurred to me the people in the photos were dead. They…
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