The Quiet Sadism of the Powerless

By Heather Bourbeau
She woke to news of another stalemate, more children dying on the border, mounting humanitarian crises overseas, and a small mass in her breast.

Twins

By Heather Bourbeau
We were born holding hands. The same amniotic sac held us, our shared world safeguarded. Our first trauma was not being born, but the cruelty of doctors...

The Toast

By Heather Bourbeau
The clinking of glasses as she clears tables will be what she remembers most clearly.