A Little Tooth

Your baby grows a tooth, then two, and four, and five, then she wants some meat directly from the bone. It’s all over: she’ll learn some words, she’ll fall in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet talker on his way ...

I kill them with kindness I can’t afford.

“Sometimes there is a person who you know looks right. Their skin is fine like a linen cloth and their hair is the color of night. And they walk and when they walk that makes ladies turn to their window and admire. All the ladies in the town with t...