Then, books to my chest, I curled up beneath the afghan and looked out the window.

NEWYORKER: The Reptile Garden

An anxious heat entered my eight-year-old mind and I curled up in bed, hoping Mother would pay me one of her night visits, kiss my forehead, lie beside me.

NEWYORKER: Naima

But the highlight of each and every week was Wednesday afternoon, when, after school, I would pull the curled up Sports Illustrated out of the mailbox.

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