The Loneliness of Former Constellations
ShortStory 6,033 words Recommended by 2 award/anthology sources
"When the doorbell first rings, I do not rise from my chair. It is one of those days when the hurt bends me double. My nerves pulse sharp behind my eyelids; my fingers, clenched around the worn wooden armrests, are full of thorns. But outside the open window, the maples blaze a vermilion song—and so, at the bell’s second chime, I hobble down the hall, raise myself to the peephole."
Quasar links out; the story lives on Strange Horizons, where the author gets the click.