/ Ever awoke and rubbed her eyes. There was the goddess of morning, waiting for her, and Mr. Bathroom was refreshing. Where do all the flowers go? she sang, as she skipped down the barren hall. Tuesday was the day of mourning. Wednesday is the day of rest. // Ever at the window, Ever at the mirror, Ever looking through the glass, Oh, how everything is changed! she laughed. /// Ever never looked her mother in the face. Her mother looked at Ever. What is your excuse, Ever? Ever picked a flower from a vase, glazed opaque on the sienna table. She said she wasn’t responsible for the color of her dress. She thought she wasn’t answerable to vain inquiries. //// Ever lit a candle in her bedroom. Let’s pretend the lights are out, she said, for then her lights were out. The hot wax dripped on Ever’s dresser, while Ever pretended she were never there.
May 1973