Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Sunlight slipped through gaps in the venetian blinds and imbued the running water with iridescent highlights. The water was hot and felt good on my dry hands. It felt like maybe I was washing a part of me as I scrubbed an off-white bowl.
"I don't want you to worry," she said.
I waited. "If I can't even help one person, I can't help anyone."

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