Guest Writer It was last Saturday. She ate cherries and drank a magic pop, and we read she read more than I read I kept asking her to let me read but she’d read over me again and again I read then she read so I read louder my voice got bolder I said something she said ‘that’s perfect’, I stopped reading, I called her a cow, she read, I pushed the paper to the side, ‘this book’, she said and I read again, this time she said nothing, we read like drawers in a chest, like hankies pinned on a vest, like pansies in a water bowl, it was Sunday, the first time she left me alone, I fished out that man’s hand from his pockets, his wife slapped me, I read again, this time,
in revolt.
Molly, Grade 9, (name changed to protect her identity) is a student at Brain Bristle, a think tank for children on the spectrum of autism, run by Devangana Mishra.
Image source: Pexels.com
