At Clara’s funeral the grass between the cracks in the pavement was as shocking as green hair. It was brighter, dewier, than any of the lawns of Illeana’s childhood. There, in Long Island, the sprinklers had clicked tiny needles of water so fine and incessant that there was never a rough patch. As a girl […]
Fiction 68
Barbara Bonanno: Jersey Girl
At my parent’s house there was a large red velvet anniversary card sitting on the breakfront in the dining room that stated: To My Wonderful Husband. An even bigger card stood at attention right next to it that said: To My Darling Wife. “She put that out,” my father said, seeing me studying the cards. […]