Tuesday January 3, 2017
“Gather your things and meet me at the streetlamp on 12th,” Mother Lang says in her strange accent. “Where is she from?” I ask Elizabeth, who shrugs. I gather what will fit into the bag Mother Sherman gave me yesterday evening when she visited for the third time this month. It’s hard to know what to pack, but I imagine I’ll need at least seven pairs of cotton underwear, three blank notebooks, a lighter, and some shampoo. “No one ever clarified about toiletries, did they?” I call Elizabeth from the toilet. There’s no time to waste.