Carousel

Desperate for a horse, and other longings

“Mother held my hand as we walked the sidewalk together towards a shoe store under the blazing sun; she tucked my hair behind my ears as we sat at the edge of the dining room table, the summer Aunt Dodie visited.

I can see these offhand gestures in blurred detail, framed around the astonishment I felt that she had registered my existence amongst all those other kids.”

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