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Climbing on Sinks
I am eight. The school bathroom is a concrete box with a row of stalls painted glossy royal blue opposite a row of white sinks—everything at right angles and uniformly spaced. There is a narrow slit of...
View ArticleModel Behavior
They balance in tree pose—a human forest; real trees would smile at this. He frowns when she licks her fingers in public; suddenly she is four years old. Anxious mother’s hands hover like bees as she...
View ArticleIn the Telling
In the telling, it lost its memoryness and became a story, partly because no one believed me. Sitting at the kitchen table one day I said (not in these words) that I remembered being wheeled down a...
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