” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 18-09-2024 18:28:18
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