April 4, 2006
Her basketball jersey read St. Agatha. She was five foot four with long brown hair and the side-glance of someone who knew all the women in magazines were surgically enhanced. Normal looking in every way, down on one knee, hand on hip with a ball stabilized at her forward-thrust foot, Carol was on her way to being just fine. I could envision her twenty years later, two active kids and yoga classes. She sits cross legged with other normal women, visualizing a tranquil pool radiating from her belly but the water grows choppy and soon big waves slap and splash.