Today I’m Susan B. Anthony, grateful that I’ve not added twenty-five pounds of undergarments.
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All tagged children
Today I’m Susan B. Anthony, grateful that I’ve not added twenty-five pounds of undergarments.
I had one of those trendy layered haircuts common in the ’80s, but it required precise curling every morning.
The crowd of four-year-olds rushed and shouted behind the placid teacher. "Allez, Allez!"
Enjoying rare solitude, I breathe, feeling invisible under the leafy ceiling. A flash and clap break my reverie.
I was at the Rewe checkout when a mom entered, pushing a cart piled with crates of recyclable glass bottles. Her son pressed on a bottom crate with his toddler legs. Crash! Smash! Silence.
She’s sorry if she seems out of it, she just got back, she was gone. Gone to New York, her son passed away …