Where there is despair, Hope

Where there is despair, Hope

She wanted to go. Really she did. I always ask for a surprise. Today there was nothing big, no a-ha. There was no superlative symbol, because her life was in no way anything close to superlative. That is how I knew who came today. I saw her feet with chipped paint and...

The Day We Saw No Breast

I remember the cold white tiles of the bathroom floor below my feet. My arms held my robe closed tight. I stared at my feet and recall being grateful for my toes, all ten. I stared at my hands and my fingers as they somehow fell folded, closed perfectly. I realized I...

It’s Not About the Boobs!

It always seems to be about the boobs, headlights, breasts, tata’s, knockers, watermelons, cupcakes, t*t’s, whatever you want to call them. I remember mine never being perfect, well at least in my eyes. I spent a good portion of my teens wishing them different. After...