by Joanna Piercers
I remember forcing open my simple blanket. It is light—maybe too light. But you know what they say: Beggars can’t be choosers, and I was not going to be one, not ever. I was taught better and I was not gonna forget that. And anyway, it was a small gift from a stranger, one I was not ashamed to appreciate.
One year and two days. One whole year and for some reason it feels like always,