Short Fiction: Going in Circles

“His hands are sticky.” Mallory rooted through the diaper bag for wipes. She stooped to be eye-level with their son, and the little girl behind them in line bumped into her. Again. Her knee hit the ground—hard—to keep from toppling over, and she gritted her teeth. Instead of lecturing the girl, she gripped the wipeContinue reading “Short Fiction: Going in Circles”