Shades kept light at bay, their crocheted tassels hung<\/p>\n
in meager sun, behind draped inner curtains and darker<\/p>\n
patterned brocade. The old apartment, a cave, a lair.<\/p>\n
Armchairs rested on their haunches, moody under<\/p>\n
fancy antimacassars, ancients huddled on the oriental rug.<\/p>\n
In the kitchen, smoke and words swirled. Backed into the corner<\/p>\n
the coal hod sat beside the stove. The white lip of the kitchen<\/p>\n
sink curled, a place they rested elbows, leaned, pondered<\/p>\n
the unfairness of the world. The boy they sent off<\/p>\n
to the basement \u00ad\u00ad out the wide front doors, then down<\/p>\n
the concrete steps. He lugged the trash into shadows<\/p>\n
of boogeymen, slanted eyes of rats, the sound<\/p>\n
of threats and laughter from above, older boys who<\/p>\n
flicked the wheels of lighters, coughed and spat.<\/p>\n
The girl crouched beneath the table amid sensible shoes,<\/p>\n
one finger traced the leaves on green linoleum,<\/p>\n
waited for someone to lift the scissors, snip the cord<\/p>\n
tied around the white box, take up the knife and slice.<\/p>\n
On good days, a carriage nestled beside the curved entryway,<\/p>\n
a great\u00adaunt on the first floor rested a pair of flattened<\/p>\n
forearms on the windowsill, watched the baby sleep.<\/p>\n
The mother knelt in the bathroom, breasts pressed<\/p>\n
against the tub, held the board, slapped heavy sheets,<\/p>\n
scrubbed, short wet hairs clinging to her neck.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Published in:<\/p>\n
Blast Furnace, Vol. 5, Issue 2<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Shades kept light at bay, their crocheted tassels hung in meager sun, behind draped inner curtains and darker patterned brocade. The old apartment, a cave, a lair. Armchairs rested on their haunches, moody under fancy antimacassars, ancients huddled on the oriental rug. In the kitchen, smoke and words swirled. Backed into the corner the coal … <\/p>\n