In the moment before the drugs settled in, she had a vision. She saw herself at 46, decades ago, standing in the rain at the corner, hailing a cab. It was the year she decided she was invisible: her belly soft, her hair dull and unremarkable. Her lover was mostly absent, she ate her dinners bent over a book, alone. Yet on this day, in the vision, there she stood solid and whole, arm raised, determined. My God, she thought, My God!
I really was beautiful.
1 comment:
this made me cry---too much identification, I guess
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