The Heirloom by Rebecca Pilling Christmas, 2014. Assonet, Massachusetts. It’s been dark for at least an hour. The siblings with children have gone, taking commotion with them, but not joy, or contentment. Babcha sits in her navy blue wingback chair, Uncle Charlie lounges nearby; my parents are perched on kitchen chairs, and Katie and I, […]
There we go! That’s better. That’s my face. I wrote this!