Promises, Promises
It’s Saturday. This morning, while it was still dark outside, I was cleaning the blood from our sheets and it took forever. The slender bars of hospitality soap and cold water weren’t doing the job. I poured out all the peroxide we had on the stains. I wash them again until my hands are numb from cold and the skin cracks from dryness. For all my effort yellowish-brown ghosts haunt the smooth white cotton. I give up. I…
