She is tired of the mole-blind days, the silence and cold of winter brokenonly intermittently by the rasp of ice sliding off the roof,or the rare snowplow diverted to these smaller residential streets. Once, she may have thoughtshe could survive on a di… | By Luisa A. Igloria on September 9, 2024 | She is tired of the mole- blind days, the silence and cold of winter broken
only intermittently by the rasp of ice sliding off the roof,
or the rare snowplow diverted to these smaller residential streets. Once,
she may have thought she could survive on a diet of clear broth, herbal tea,
fruit whose insides you could pare thin as the skin of windowpanes.
Who, again, is enforcer of her removal from the world of normal
mothers and daughters, her isolation in a cave of her own displacement?
She pours some flakes of cereal into a smooth white bowl, tops them with a surfeit of berries.
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