When I was six, the story of Mom hopping a train to NYC at sixteen was legend. So, I didn’t think twice as I squeezed into the trolley on 56th Street. My first-grade fingers dropping tomorrow’s milk money into the fare collector. You’d think I’d be nervous, surrounded by adults with too much on their minds to notice me. But no, I was defiant. Proud even. My sisters had failed to meet me at the usual pick-up time, and I wasn’t about to wait for them to remember what they’d forgotten. I was gonna take myself home, and I did.
M.R. Mandell (she/her) is a writer living in L.A. You can find her work in Dorothy Parker’s Ashes, JAKE, Roi Fainéant Press, Stanchion Zine, Anti-Heroin Chic. Twitter: @mrmandell8 Instagram: @m.r.mandell