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A Body Divided: Memoir
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When I came back home, after coming down with polio, everything had changed for me. I'd been gone for forty-five long days and nights. But it was Halloween, a time very nearly sacred for children in the Midwest, and it broug
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...they smiled their cautious pathetic poultry smiles and they stuck a needle in my arm and I cried...
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It's October, 1956 and my mother is told her sister has died. Were they sure? She had just seen her sitting in her science class that very morning, probably taking notes on emulsion and dispersion, twirling her pencil in the air as if mixing a Gimlet...
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But I do not dig graves, only cradles...
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Red meat is not her problem. Red meat takes the beating and repairs, reforms, becomes stronger.
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No Agent had the killing potential, the transferability, the lethality and the overall fear-causing capability that Agent Smallpox, The Maker, bless his viral core, had.
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There's something wrong with my feet, if they are my feet at all.
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He knows why I’m here, so he stalls, talking about the coffee, about how it’s a new dark blend from a little shop in The Village, about how he loves the flavor, so rich, but just because a coffee is dark doesn’t mean it’s stronger, that, in fact, it’s the
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