February 25, 2016

“The rain did not let up. It poured and sloshed. I turned the oven on. Sister, brother, and I huddled around the blue burners. We held our hands out until we felt the vaguest heat on our fingers. Our blankets were cold and dribbling. The kitchen floor was wet with rain water. Sister, brother, and I leaned over the stove. We were so close, our hair would catch fire if we moved the wrong way. We breathed in soft, sporadic bursts so that the fire would not go out. We looked outside and mud ran from the grave holes to the side of the house. The mud was thick and black.”

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