When I was 12 I walked into my living room at the exact moment my sister stepped off a chair. The rope snapped up around her chin like headgear. She broke three of her teeth when her jaw hit the edge of my mother’s antique trunk.
“Are you alright?”
Author
Carlene Doyle
Carlene Doyle
I paint my toenails bright colors. I listen to sad music. Sometimes I spin around until I fall down.