it’s my knees
by Carolineyesterday i drove up to rockford and bought the things i needed to frame a painting to give to my brother for christmas. i stopped at barnes and noble to buy him a book and i ran into my old piano teacher.
“it’s my knees,” she told me, leaning on a rack of books and holding her cane away from herself like it had the plague. “i’m so tired of being crippled. two new hips last year, two new knees this summer, last year i had new lenses in my eyes — pretty soon i won’t have anything original left.”
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