Her Body and Other Parties: Stories

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One of them, the one that I had poked with the tip of my index finger, was cold as ice, and yielded beneath my touch the way a blister did. She menaced a hunter in a winter forest – though perhaps he was less menaced than startled at a tiny naked girl baring her teeth and howling.

And the sensation of fins splitting to feet being anything less than agonizing he rejects outright after cutting his hand with a pair of scissors. I told her about finding my mother, the perilous trek across Vermont and New Hampshire, how the tide was never still, my ex-wife. It’s about the impact that mothers and daughters and sisters have on who they want to be and who they become.She makes this point not through what is becoming, in my opinion, a tired form of analysis of “everyday practices” in feminist studies (very popular in cultural studies and anthropological work on the body). Evil witches leave the castle and move into small cottages and live out their days painting portraits of woodland creatures.

As a grown woman, I would have said to my father that there are true things in this world only observed by a single set of eyes.And when he asks me to marry him, days shy of my eighteenth birthday, I say yes, yes, please, and then on that park bench I sit on his lap and fan my skirt around us so that a passerby would not realize what was happening beneath it.