In my panty drawer you will find my father’s ID, his social security card, and a photograph of a cat I’ve never met. The cat is fat, with Goosebumps-green eyes, sprawled out like a starfish. Stuck to a screen door, only her own claws keep her from falling to the concrete below. The back of the photo reads, “This is Gracie. She is meaner than hell, but I like her. Sorry about the toothpaste –…
Mackenzie Mays' previous work for The Toast can be found here.
It was 1951, and she knew she was pregnant. Well, at least she thought she was.
David – she still remembers his name – slid closer to her and placed his clammy hand on her thigh. He lightly patted her skin that was, thankfully, protected by her stockings while she stared out the window, waiting for it to be