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Margaret Benbow

Fall 1980

Ross’s Eyes

By Margaret Benbow

That week I’d storm down corridors in my mother’s-milky gauze robe, an angel’s gown with a hot mammalian smell, and stop short at the nursery where you’d been called “small: […]

Fall 1980

Sauna

By Margaret Benbow

That winter your old babe joined the health club. In saunas, she and I sweated and stewed, and dryly sized each other up. Steam blue as gentians swirled between our […]

Fall 1980

Kala

By Margaret Benbow

FE Fl FO FUM, Dad’s home. THUMP, commando boots hit the corner. SLOP, soup’s on. Mom dumps bomb-sized meatballs on Dad’s plate. He shoves them into his food-hole. In the […]