Haiku Stroke
By Martina Reaves
I said “Dark Water” instead of “English Breakfast.” I couldn’t name Grace. I called her “the girl with the long red hair upstairs.” We called 9-1-1. The paramedics, warm and gentle, guessed my words. I tried to make sense. I stayed for three days in the hospital, my heart pounding, beat by beat… WHOOSH! Wild-fresh-crisp […]