The Day Before My Sister’s Wedding I Woke Up To Find My Hair Had Been Cut While I Slept

my hand moved in the habitual gesture and returned without what it was reaching for. I think about my mother’s explanation, the casual certainty that they had known I would not agree if asked, as if the problem with asking was practical rather than ethical, as if the requirement to ask was itself the obstacle they had cleverly worked around.

They had continue reading …