enough

enough

enough I remember coming home from second grade and staring at my crooked legs in the mirror. I had watched my classmates on the playground that day. I stood back, quiet and still amidst their shouts and laughter, part envy and part curiosity as they effortlessly ran...

test post

test post The little boy’s parents sit nearby: a man who speaks fractured English and a woman wearing a hijab who does not speak at all. We’re together in a small waiting room with milky white walls and straight-backed chairs alternating red, blue, green; to my left...