I had wanted to hear from her for so long that I didn't trust myself to open the envelope.
For Salon
Viewing entries tagged
motherless daughters
I am 30 years old. My closets are overflowing with wool coats, shiny at the elbows from use, and belts whose leather curves approximate the shape of a woman’s waist. But the clothes don’t bear marks from my own body; they belonged to my mother, who died when I was 23.
For Refinery29