[hums]

I played it on the piano, I played it for my father, after supper. It was a trick to get the pedaling right, the notes ran together if I wasn’t quick at it, but I was quick at it. Quick at it every time.

[hums; trails off]

Lizzie? Have you gone to get the basket?

The little girl said, “It hurts, it hurts,” and she cried, and the big girl sang to her and stroked her hair, and when the big girl put her hand to the little girl’s forehead, the little one would hold it there like a cold cloth.

Where is the little girl now? Who sings to her? Running and dreaming somewhere alone. Who sings to her? No answer.

“It hurts, it hurts.” Yes, it burnt my throat, and it didn’t seem true, I felt it, I felt everything, I swallowed fire.

Lizzie? Where have you gone, Lizzie?

[hums]

Yes, I swallowed fire.

Lizzie?

My name is Minnie Dominski. I must go and see about my sister now, and the basket, what’s become of them.

April 19, 2004

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