valerie@sdcc7.UUCP (Valerie Polichar) (03/28/85)
[] The plain-eyed woman who came to scrub the floors on Wednesdays and Fridays never brought you gifts. Her rag-rug hands grabbed your arm too tight, and you stared at the impressions left there. Always you were in the way. You could hide, but she would find you, and chase you out into the cold yard. You couldn't understand her hard face or her slow movements, or the way she stood that last day she came, red-rubbed fingers in your hair, her final paycheck wrinkled in her hand. ----- comments greatly appreciated -----