Main T.o.C. Change Resist Ground Art

Mike L. Nichols I'm Still Not Tall Enough to Reach She kept her religion sheathed in manila, high on a closet shelf. She’d tippy-toe it down at bedtime, scribble invincible convictions in it. On Sunday afternoons she’d bend back the weakened metal clasps and read from it to me, tracing the text with an accusing finger. The moment they wheeled her body out, I lugged a kitchen chair upstairs and opened the envelope. I slipped free the sheaf. I pored over each blank page.

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