Making ready for your arrival
2004-01-26 - 10:12 a.m.
You were coming to dinner. My sister and I were cooking for you, buzzing about the house, the house where we grew up, getting ready for your arrival. My black skirt was to the floor, a white lace blouse with a high collar peeked out from my long black cloak. When you knocked at the door, I went to meet you. You came in, your arms full. You were healthy. You were alive. And I woke up.
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Pretend it's 10th grade. Leave me a note.
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