Telephone conversations are little lives.
Hi,
How are you feeling?
At night, the fan whips air above my bed directly onto my naked torso. My legs are folded in the sheets, my hair wrapped in the scarf. Another fan sits on my desk, a gush of air reaches for my face. It’s taken a long while, but I am sleeping again. Going down early. Up early. Feeling like a child in the bed my mother laid for me. …
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