neuro oncology wing
Suddenly I am seven and the knowledge that the low rumble of the diesel outside my window will soon fade brings a panicked freeze. My father, in welders’ coveralls, enters my darkened room; I am too scared of his departure from the blizzard-blasted house even to move. He sits on the bed, reaches a winter-freckled, calloused hand over to stroke my hair. I feign sleep. One day we will do this again but change places. He will have no hair to stroke but my hands will be freckled and calloused and suddenly I am seven. I lie. I tell myself, I am seven, only now just more so.
Erin Clark is a queer American writer and priest living in the east end of London, UK. Her poetry, fiction and essays have been published in Geez, Mash Stories, Abbey of the Arts, and Pilcrow & Dagger. Her nonfiction work has been published in The Book of Queer Prophets (2020) and Sacred Pavement (2021). She can be found on Twitter as @e_m_clark.
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