by Adeline Macdonald Clean steam iron the linen sheets, white and crisp and beautiful and without fault or fold White walls upon white walls with nothing to upset you or hurt you or make you cry or want to leave or want to think Do you love it? Is it…
By Dora Simpson Sunlight streaks awning tops spilling ink sketches down Rue Cler as delivery trucks wrangle narrow cobble and brick, side-by-side they purr. Yesterday’s swine hangs upside-down from meat hooks, stripped of its hide; sides of beef with s-shaped, naked spines drape over white, market smocks as men shoulder…