I craned my neck to see if Priscilla was in the kitchen filling buffet containers or wiping trays since she was not at the counter to take my order.
"Is Priscilla here today?" I heard the worry in my voice as I asked the young woman who stood behind the register. "No, she has the day off. She had errands to run." "Is she okay, she's always here on Wednesdays." "Yeah, she had to take her daughter to the doctor." I knew her daughter had been quite ill; hospitalized for some sort of surgery. Priscilla was taking care of her along with working her shifts at KFC. One day I had noticed Priscilla's usual sparkly blue eyes, one narrowed to a near-wink, appeared more gray and bloodshot. Her shoulders were more hunched. I mentioned to her that she looked tired. That's when Priscilla opened up to me, began sharing her story in tiny, quiet snippets. • • • What do you think made Priscilla open up to me?
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![]() Musical Morphine:
Award Finalist in the "Health: Alternative Medicine" category of the 2017 Best Book Awards |