My father’s hands are much like my own. We share the same stubby fingers, the same thick thumbs. Our smallest digits, the pinky fingers, spin off at an alarming angle at the last knuckle although my ...
At twenty-three years old, I was already the mother of two. Newly separated from my abusive ex-fiancee, naive about life, love, and everything in between, and scared shitless of adulthood, I was a hot ...
He targeted me the moment I sat down. Did I look like easy prey as I was rushing to work? Unaware of him at first, I found a seat and took out my phone to listen to music on the way uptown.
As the ...
