1. Our teacher sends us home with slips of paper reminding us that tomorrow is soft pretzel day, ten cents apiece. After the sale we converge on the folding tables in the school yard, pressing fingertips wet from our mouths into the tiny cubes of salt that litter the surface, licking them clean. 2.Continue reading “Salt by Abby Alten Schwartz”
Excavating Words
SugarSugarSalt Magazine 