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.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖
Sometimes, I wondered if she was doing something wordlessly special. Some saintly or mystical acts, while Tommy and I were away, powerless, at school. I figured there must be a reason they preferred her to me.
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I wore white gloves. I wore white shoes.
On Big Kiss, Bye-Bye by Claire-Louise Bennett
From the river of drunkenness, flowing silt…
