that still didn’t cover rent and food and medicine for the cough she couldn’t shake. He remembered being hungry, not the vague hunger of a late lunch.
the deep cellular hunger of poverty that made you lightheaded and taught you to ignore the cramps because complaining didn’t make food appear. He remembered his mother apologizing. “I’m sorry, baby. Mama’s working on it. She died 2 weeks before Christmas. Pneumonia,” the doctor said. “But Ethan knew the truth. She died of poverty. of not being able to afford to take time
