"   Grief arrived on a Tuesday, disgused as a camera bag. 

   Liz nearly tripped over it on her way home-- coffee in one hand, phone in the

other, emotionally unavailable as ever. At first, she thought someone had dumped

a vintage satchel outside her apartment, which would not have been the weirdest thing

to happen on her street. There was a time a pot-bellied pig somehow ended up on the fire escape,

and then another time the guy across the hall insisted on singing "Bohemian Rhapsody" at 3 a.m with a kazoo. But no. As soon as she saw the cracked leather and crooked stitching, her stomach did that dramatic soap opera drop.

   Leo's camera bag.   "

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