The Age of Hiding
When hiding behind a door one’s view of the world is a narrow vertical slice. Sometimes that slice is just enough. The best part is that, though no one can see you, you can hear a lot. It’s a powerful feeling to be five years old and hear Mother calling and to just stand in the little space between the door and wall and not answer the call, knowing she will never actually try to find you.
This is how I looked in The Age of Hiding. The dress was mostly my favorite color: black.
I am not a nun.