A Chagall Figure in the Night
“There you are,” my mother greeted me. “I was beginning to think you’re not coming.” “The bus connections were terrible, but I called the hospital. They won’t get to you until late afternoon.” My mother had fallen and broken her hip yesterday. “I still don’t know how it happened. Lillian came in with fresh linens and I started to get up from the armchair. My legs folded under and then, I was in pain, on the floor.” “Did your head spin? Did you feel lightheaded?” “No, I felt...
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