Iron Box & I
We started getting know each other when I was about…one year old. A little too well, a little too fast. I must have just achieved the milestone of walking with support. So, while I was off honing my skills, my mother quickly ironed my sister’s school uniform for the next day, unplugged the not-still-burning-hot iron box and contained it in a closed-door room. Only after this did she pick me up…















