Walls

Back in the room, I change into pajamas. I refuse to wear the hospital gown, even if I have a good excuse. I mean, I did just have a baby. Whatever, you were only six months pregnant. She wasn’t even…

Loss

My leg aches moans the old woman rubbing the void. Phantom pain proves real enough for her, loss of limb shocking nerve and tissue a fit subject for grief despite prevention which requires pruning gangrenous blight. What was there is…

Dad Died

When I was little, Dad would get into the car and say, “Let’s get lost.” “OK,” I’d shout, sitting up in the front seat next to Dad, where kids were allowed back then, no seat belts required. At each intersection…