Minimal Damage
I remember sleeping about five inches from the ceiling. Coffinesque. I went to sleep stifling an endless scream. My brother was in the lower bunk. I fell once but don’t remember the circumstances. I dreamed of men. Famous ones. Ones my friends say would be good for me. I broke his things when he was gone. I’d slip into our closet and find seashells he collected, just one or two, not instantly noticeable and take them to the laundry room in the Big House, as the girls call it. I’d take one at a...