She had asked for a slow song to dance to
and so, she swayed before us
unsure of how to move
she could not stomp and spin
she could not pop and lock
she could only rock gently
her arms swinging slowly by her side
Connie empties a container of crayons onto the kitchen table and rushes to another newly-remembered hiding place, frantic with industry. Her footsteps return, arms stretching up towards the ceiling, triumphantly brandishing glue sticks and plastic scissors. ...
Rose’s mother wanted a girl. The magic mirror of the ultrasound showed a delicate little creature throbbing with pale light. It looked dreamily towards the future, but flickered away from the curious gazes seeking the secrets of its body.
He had not expected to be here watching her again. She hadn’t called him in years, but here he was sitting in a white-lace dressed chair, with a single rose slotted down the back. He watched Lily dancing with her father, just this once and only because it was her weddi...