By Nora Maynard
Your mother found the photo in a drawer while clearing out her cousin’s house. Name and date in pencil on the back match your grandmother’s mother on the family tree. You beg. It’s the flapper dress, skirt hiked, strappy shoe flexed on the Roadster’s running board. You think you might look a little like her? Something in the mouth and chin? You’re careful like you promised. You put the photo in a silver frame from Target and hang it in your room. You do not know that the car belonged to a man she went to the movies with only once or that the dress was borrowed. This is the only her.
Nora Maynard’s writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Moon City Review, hex literary, HAD, Salon, The Millions, and others. She’s the co-editor of -ette review, a journal of very short prose. www.noramaynard.com
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