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 Deana Wilson “TEN!” Dark. Too dark. Cramped. Stiff. Stuffed in like carrots in a vacuum sealed bag. Elbow in my gut; tangle of hair in my face. Carlotta! Too dark! Can’t see! Blonde hair on my tongue. Gasping…. “Carlotta!” How? Why blonde? How do I know — “Carlotta!” No…