Milk

Her mother came in the night.  Baby screamed, she needed milk not penny juice.  The cupboards were bare.  Dorothy Jane’s husband left town to sell Constellation carpet sweepers.  Blood swelled under the surface of her eye.  Never spoke of this night again.

Dorothy Jane moved on.  Remarried.  This time to her high school sweetheart.  Distant cousins, three or four times removed.  Common in small Nebraska towns.  Just Jane now.  They visit the old homestead.  A dam now in place.  Backs up the water, nothing gets through.