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Mermaid She sat on my stoop every Sunday morning, scratching her rash speckled calves with dirt infested nails and destroying the bird nests in her faded green hair with her claws. Two bibles struggled against the cheeks of her hemp bag and poked their ragged corners out of moth bitten holes. The dimples in her cheeks reminded me of my aunt, and they bent in whenever she flashed her rotted roots at me. She stopped scratching when I climbed the steps and commenced as soon as I shut the door behind me. I could watch her draw blood from my apartment window.Mermaid
Every Sunday at nine, I
by `WineWriter
Blue Moonby ~microbot23
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