Daddy isn’t fair, taking my cell away like that. I’ll show him. When the sleek car pulls up, I reveal my white thigh and wait to be let in.
“I found this box in your closet. Personal?” Amy asked. Mom smiled and said, “Your first tooth, your first scribble and a leaf you picked.”
Stumble out at 6 AM to find my young son reading Lord of the Rings. Our bright child understands Tolkien’s text. I exclaim, “My precocious!”
She’s gone bad. Little liar. Got a spoiled milk mind. Smell the sour? You better throw her out before she makes them other kids sick.
Butchered by a drunk, two teenage ghosts are seen trying to thumb a ride home. Mom sits by the window and waits. The milk has spoiled!
He would never think to count the weeks. With each contraction she squeezes his hand and prays that it will be born the right color.