I’m carried — we’re carried, nine of us, one by one — in a nurturing arm 13 and half paces from front door to a wrap-around porch from four weeks, three days and a piece of remnant carpet and the 2×6 walls of fir the box of our birth to a confined space of black…
Tooth-Fairy
Chapter 2: A Polish Year (continued from Ben the Foody) By November, Ben had settled into our expanded life that now included him. Routines were being rewritten … and so were my values. For the first time in my life, I now had to think of “someone” else’s needs – another living creature was now…