The End of Mammals by Erin Ruble
It began with the pigs. As one factory farm after another succumbed, animal rights activists proclaimed it proof of the system’s failure.
It began with the pigs. As one factory farm after another succumbed, animal rights activists proclaimed it proof of the system’s failure.
and after and after and nothing changes, just the names of the children. This one drew birds wearing hats. That one had an orange juice popsicle for an imaginary friend.
“It’s a pitcher in the shape of a frog,” says my husband, who works near the museum shop.
You were an ugly baby. As the first, you had a difficult journey, paving the way for yourself and then me, and your head came out pointed like a traffic cone.
I was chatting with a new friend at the café. I’d been sitting alone with a crossword when she came by and sat herself down. I’d heard about her before I met her.