Coffee’s Chokehold: By Kaitlyn McGurran
When I was four, my small fingers traced the scratches on my grandparents’ wooden table over and over again, rubbing the tiny lines until my skin turned red. Across from me sat my grandfather, his shaky leg propped up on the chair in front of him and a newspaper splayed across his lap. In his … Continue reading Coffee’s Chokehold: By Kaitlyn McGurran
Copy and paste this URL into your WordPress site to embed
Copy and paste this code into your site to embed