The Lawn Worker Heard Crying in My Basement and I Knew Something Was Wrong

setup. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with drawings, hundreds of them, landscapes and birds and trees and faces. One face repeated over and over again, drawn from memory in a dark room by a woman who needed something to hold onto.

My face.

And on the bed, curled against the wall with one arm shielding her eyes from the sudden light, was continue reading …