I picked myself up and wandered along the front of the lake down toward our cottage, my right hand raised to my tear-filled eyes, little knowing my father had shifted from filming the action between the Indian tribes, instead, concentrating on my solitary walk of defeat along the shoreline.
It’s the Internet! Poetry is the scripture in the temple!
The bones in her hands healed. We went to the hospital and the doctor removed the splints. He examined her hands and did tests, took x-rays. It was miraculous, he said. Her hands were in perfect shape.
I spend my time imagining my husband's breathing: the symphony of energy expended by his body and bones and the universal sound of the heart pumping blood, the heart doing what the heart actually does.
Baggott earned an MFA at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, and her first published novel, Girl Talk (Washington Square Press, 2002), was a national bestseller, quickly followed by her novel, The Miss America Family (Washington Square Press, 2003), and then The Madam (Washington Square Press, 2004), an historical novel based on the life of her grandmother.
But then something will happen. A few words that were supposed to mean something small and specific will become a lot of words about something important, amorphous and large.
She takes a couple of healthy gulps. Without such completely feminine hands, her beer chugging might be considered downright unladylike.
A large blob of grayish-green was visible therein, and its presence I acknowledged with a muttered 'for Christ's sake' because to me it suggested a leaking fridge and a whole lot of hassle.
