The child’s feet are dirty. “Yuck,” the mother says. “Look how dirty your feet are.” The mother remembers when the child’s feet were dipped in ink. His first steps into […]
This trip had been meant to repair us. Instead, the space between us had grown into a small, silent ghost.
Nostalgia is like sweet poison, in a way.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
“The thing is, nothing lasts like they say it will. Believe me. Your hamburgers, your chicken breasts, your pork chops – all the animals – they go gray even when you double-wrap.”
“A plate fell on the floor, crushed into a thousand pieces. The little boy startled and the women took him out of the stroller and rocked him in her arms.”
I swore to never forget him, to talk to him often, to keep him in my heart. Those were the oaths of children and careless drunks.
Danny is sitting on our stoop. His frown could draw blood.
Along the Cam, at the Jesus Lock, you take my hand. A sparrowhawk flies above us with its massive wingspan, making a terrible sound, keening, screaming. Your hand is warm. All of this time, it has been warm.
Whites Arrival Hospital Light – AR101 Doctor’s Coat – AR102 Swaddle – AR103 Midnight Feed – AR104 Nonna’s Smile – AR105 First Year Burp Cloth – FY201 First Tooth […]