Pissarro_WomanHangingLaundry

Becoming an Activist

The officer pushed me into the van holding my fellow demonstrators.

Once, a psychiatrist asked my earliest memory.

My mother was hanging sheets on the line. I saw a blimp and thought it was a bomb, I went ballistic. Mommy laughed. Her cheek was cool, comforting, like the sheets, blowing in the wind.

 

Holly St. Clair.