Lungs of Truth
by Emily Thompson-Mueller
Eleanor lay awake beside her husband thinking, I wouldn’t mind if his genitals fell off, leaving behind the smooth bump of a pelvis, and I never had sex again. She’d borne Franklin six children and eulogized one; subsequently sex seemed a duty long overachieved.
Eleanor instead thought edaciously of Hick, of taking the woman in her arms and holding. These were not thoughts meant for a First Lady, but thoughts for when the world was settled and sleeping, and Eleanor was only a woman. Then, Eleanor stopped holding her breath and let truth fill the empty spaces in her lungs.