Words

I used to start each day with the same ritual. I would look in the mirror and say my name out loud. “Abigail,” I said and let the sound of the short and long a’s surround me in the still-dim light. Then I would say, “Abbie,” the na,e I used to go by at school, when school was still something you could go to. Then I said, “Abs,” the name my mom and dad and brother used to call me. “Abigail, Abigail, Abigail, that’s who you are.” I would then splash my face with cold water […]