The Collecting Basket

  Toronto 1968—In the black and white photo, my sister holds my hand, facing the camera with an enigmatic smile. Together, our bodies intersect the outlines of a tennis court. Neither my sister nor I wear shoes, just socks. Hers reach to mid-calf; mine pool about my ankles. On my sister’s body, a flowered sweater hangs mis-buttoned above smooth shorts. Her round face—four years old and still without scars—is surrounded by thick hair. Only two, I occupy my usual position … Continue reading The Collecting Basket