by Dan Berick On Friday she will wrench you,unceremoniously, from the pink bedwhere you have spent your life in unobtrusive duty this half century or so. Your world ends with a brisk tug that I’ll only vaguely noticethanks to the doctor’s skill(and benzodiazepine).And then you’re gone forever. Next, the months of slow replacement:scattered…
by Amy Fontenot Dear Santa, Christmas is almost here! Daddy says I love Christmas more than anyone because it is my birthday too. I will be seven this year. I promise I have been good all year. I help Mommy take care of Baby Benji. He cries and poops, but…
By Amy Fontenot Mother checked her lipstick in the rear-view mirror as we pulled to a stop at the red light. We’ve driven hours to Atlanta so that we wouldn’t run into my mother’s social circle. My stomach churned again, either from the nerves or the hormones. Mother glanced with contempt at my small…