Photo by Roseanna Smith on Unsplash
by Tara Isabel Zambrano
It’s just before Thanksgiving when the face of the eight-year-old girl flashes on every TV screen. Missing teeth on the bottom row, brown hair, almond-colored eyes. A powder blue dress, lace gloves. A stuffed bear found in the woods, a soiled sock, a piece of cord. Boot prints. She was last seen at a birthday party, in the bounce house with padded floors and roofs, colored walls and nets, little pathways to other rooms where nothing could hurt her.
Tara Isabel Zambrano is a writer of color.
