Mama pulls down the attic ladder.Smell of dust and moth balls.I tug on her apron strings. I want to play.Clothespins click and clack.Papa’s shirts float down—flat gullsthat crumple in her basket.Alone on a shelf, a vase,sea snakes frozen in its porcelain.Their skins gleam wet.Don’t touch that!It’s a wedding present from Yvonne.Mama tells me how they […]

Read More Nobody to Hold Her Back – by Atma Frans