Bronagh's mother watched her toying with her food.
"Sit up straight, Bronnie," she chided, "and finish your dinner. Your father's ready to read you a story."
"I don't want to."
"Well, if you'd
...
[+]
The promise of safety
Retreats before the distraction, impatience, the rage
Of my neighbor; who on the street would wish me well,
Then behind his car's tinted glass,
Succumbs to a darkness he does not understand.