Lucinda Kempe ~ Jeanne d’Arc

I woke up miss­ing my big toe, my hair in a mul­let, and with a half-eat­en donut on the bed­side com­mode. A shep­herd preached in the court­yard and the witch had parked her broom in the mid­dle of the dri­ve. Some kids were smack­ing each oth­er sil­ly with its fun­ny end.

I clam­bered up from the linens, grabbed the donut and head­ed to the yard.

The kids point­ed at my hair and the ooz­ing stump of toe.

I had –more

Karen Craigo ~ Lighter Than Water or Lighter Than Air

One of the men men­tions buoy­an­cy, and that’s when I know: they’re talk­ing about me.

I had sus­pect­ed. This is our third day in the same hotel, the third day I’ve ven­tured down to the pool in ear­ly evening to catch what gold remained from the day, and the third time four bespec­ta­cled Australian men pulled lounge chairs up pool­side to face me and talk togeth­er while I swam.

It’s a small –more

James Chapin ~ Deafness

        in mem­o­ry of José Saramago

I don’t remem­ber when I stopped being able to hear. That makes it worse. There’s no moment I can hold up and point to and say Look. It hap­pened to me also.

I know the day that it hap­pened, I do. When the whole audi­ble world is replaced by a dull shush, that’s a mile­stone. You mark the date. For me: work­week, Tuesday, at the bank. Sometime after lunch I –more