Tag: j annie macleod

| By J. Annie Macleod

[ Issue Issue #10 ]

Daughter Mother Daughter

Egg The girl is conceived. Her atmosphere is viscous and close, as intimate as a tongue. As she grows, she eats the egg of her own making, raw and without choice. Her belly streaks fat, her haunches muscle. Her birth is a farmer’s breakfast: egg, ham, and bacon, with a wide napkin to sop up …