“I wasn’t sure I had expected to. But I did it anyway. And where I woke up was someplace I had never been before. It was a comfortable room, with green walls and ivory window ledges, and I was tucked up in a narrow bed. My hands and arms rested outside the mint-colored chenille bedspread laid over me. They was wrapped in gauze, which felt stuck to the skin with something slippery. Miss Lizzie’s aloe leaf, I was guessing. And I was wearing a clean nightgown, too big for me, red flannel. With a fr...ayed lace collar. My hair on the pillow was still in its braid, though pulled all which-a-way, and it still smelled like dirty fire. My skin smelled like dirty fire, too. I was alone. I sat up cautiously, but the room didn’t spin. My arms smarted, and the skin around my eyes. The burns on my knees from the sewing machine were welted, blistering, and I guessed before long they would scab. They were the worst of it, though, and I have never felt so lucky. There wasn’t any gauze on my face, but the skin felt sticky there, too.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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