For five days I was never given water. I was placed in a rehabbed storage room with no bathroom. I was escorted, sick with covid, to a public bathroom.
People ask me why I’m doing life in prison. It was Mother’s day, I beat Alexa down with my fists I had never before fought. The day I screamed her secrets, mourned mine, while I clawed and clutched her into admitting there had been no prenatal pills.
These stories arrive by mail.
Every month we send one, handwritten, to your mailbox.