Kate Gies
Writer
How to Scream Sing
“I remember only the edges. The hug she gives me in front of the kitchen sink. The sun through the blinds throwing diamonds on the yellowed floor. The foreign word ‘operation’— how I try it in my mouth, but can’t separate the syllables properly. I remember my mother’s candied eyes as she pulls me in. Then the hug. How she digs herself into me and I have trouble catching my breath with my face pushed into her stomach …”