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 wipe … Continue reading Short Fiction: Going in Circles