Crack

Sunday, October 1, 2017
By: 
Zoë Bradley

Out the kitchen window, blue bleeds to violet. Gracie holds the baby to her with one hand, his tiny fingers splayed at her collarbone, he’s still as small as when they first placed him there. That’s the way it’s been for a month now, held with one hand to her chest, feeding from it, balanced there as she moves about the kitchen. 

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