About the work

She’d found the band-aids on the sidewalk outside the pharmacy. Not a whole box, just a handful, loose, scattered across the concrete where a child had dropped them. Some were still in their wrappers, some weren’t. The orange one, the brightest, she’d tucked into her pocket, knowing one of her boys would find a new scrape before dinner. And they always did. It was the same orange, exactly, as the plastic toy megaphone that someone had left on the garden wall. No one ever knew where the megaphone came from either.