Swings by Kate Jones

The little girl on the swing looks sad.  Her mother is speaking into a ‘phone, its blue glow lighting up her drawn-in eyebrows and cheap mascara.  She’s gesturing wildly with her hands, arguing, cursing. I’m embarrassed for her, for the little girl, who sits waiting for a push, dangling skinny legs from denim cut-offs and …

Swings by Kate Jones Read More »