Month: March 2019

Matriarchal hope glimmers, glorious saucepans saved for, passed down. Smashed by vicious rape. ‘I do not nourish, I do not even turn over, not even when he leaves, this be my death, where I quietly finger the softness of my tongue’ (37).

Flowing prose reveals the frailty in human choices, the systemic flaws that make choices fatal. Like the beleaguered Lizzie, readers may feel they  ‘aren’t touching the ground now, but treading air’ (63). Air cut with the rubble of the past’s hard work.