by Jordan Dotson | Mar 1, 2015 | Things I wish I'd written
In this story, she is fire-born: knee-deep in the shuddering world. In this story, she knows no fear, for what is fractured is a near-bitten star, a false-bearing tree, or a dishonest wind. In this story, fear is a house gone dry. Fear is not being a woman. I’m no...