Sublime

It came as a painful shock: kind, helpful Aunt Estée had lied to us. The truth was not noble, it was horrible. This was what the Aunts meant, then, when they said women’s minds were too weak for reading. We would crumble, we would fall apart under the contradictions, we would not be able to hold firm.

mom’s gaze locked with mine, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I’m going to lift you up, and you’ll shut the door behind you. Don’t move, and don’t make a sound. Whatever you hear,

She scooped up the child, tucked him under her arm, and half ran and half stumbled toward the roaring sea. “Oh, mother! No! Don’t leave me!” Ooruk cried. And at once you could tell she wanted to stay with her child, she wanted to, but something called her, something older than she, older than he, older than time.

As her daughters grew older, my mother was wary of intruding on our privacy. She believed in knocking on doors, not barging through them. She never forced conversations. When we talked, she listened to me carefully, her eyes returning to mine throughout our dialogue. When I was a teenager, she was especially careful, aware no doubt that I boiled wi

They say the fighters in the ring revel in violence. They say the wolf inside them is always looking for a release. Even on nights like tonight when the moon is not full and they look like men. And don’t they deserve violence