10/04/2009

She holds a plastic dolly – one that has frayed hairs on its head and a glass eye stuck open, whether she cradles the toy or drags it behind her by one leg, head bump-bump-bumping against the slits between the concrete blocks in the sidewalk as she approaches, one hand encased by her mother’s larger, rougher fingers. The other doll’s eye is perpetually closed. You bend down, to get a better view, to act the part of the interested adult, the one with a little more authority, and you ask, “Has it always been like this?” and the child stuffs a thumb deep into her mouth. She rolls her eyeballs up at you and exhales, settles her small shoulders closer to her neck and stares, unblinking, relentless.
     You stand straight again, silenced, held in her gaze. Heat rises into your cheeks.
     She tilts her head, almost imperceptibly, to the side and the corners of her lips lift above the ball of her closed fist. She says, “I win.”

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Yvette Managan is a writer who works by day maintaining the chemical integrity of the Banana River. At night, she acts as intermediary between the horses, hound-dogs and husband. She reads to remember, writes to forget and re-enacts the American War Between the States to teach others that war is never healthy.

Her work has been seen in many on-line magazines, most currently All Things Girl, Static Motion, Literal Translations and Killer-Work.