Too sick to leave home, I flop in my sheets like something beached and dying. After weeks of illness, I pine for fresh air. An apartment with a bathtub.
Swimming With Headscarf Ladies by Kirsten Voris
Tag: Kirsten Voris
Split End by Kirsten Voris
I watched the sunlight slide along the wall and considered other jobs I might apply for. Around its zenith, the sun illuminated a hair.
Peanut Training by Kirsten Voris
During our weekly Skype session, my therapist, Margaret, suggests I’m an alcoholic. What? I already stopped drinking, can’t remember my last hangover.
