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I might have chosen the needle and thread, thereby insuring myself a long if not necessarily happy life, or the bow and arrow, the significance of which seems obvious. My rich aunts had both grabbed rice cakes on their ceremonial turns around the table Read the rest of this entry »
The secret I felt thrust upon me is nothing I wish to claim; a syllable it was that earned me this room and in itself the syllable was true. From my small town near Pisa where bread was scarce I’ve journeyed here to a room of my own, Read the rest of this entry »
Will I be chained to a work table? she should have asked, would have asked, knowing what she knows. Will I sleep, by my own free choice, out of fear of being docked, will I sleep beneath that table five nights a week? Read the rest of this entry »