Posts in Tag

fourth grade

On the day I dared myself to speak in fourth grade my apple was taken from the class tree I was given a corner to sit in and a letter for my mother detailing my excesses and failures. Mrs. Eaton did not recognize the fear coloring my voice my legs shaking beneath the desktop the sweat on my palm when I raised my hand or the hope she would see past the olive to something other than a stony core. Later, my mother dried my palm with her own as

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