“This week Galit asked you to conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season- whatever you like. But don’t tell us what it is, conjure it. In 100 words.”
Squirmy toes flex and stretch battling my lumbering hands as I try to quickly slip on the seemingly insignificant cloth. Happy pink, blue, white, green, purple with the words “boy” or “girl” etched all over the outside as an indicator of who is who to help those who are confused by their fraternal identities. They kick as if to fight their way out of the labels, those boxes, those superficial and overly convenient designations. But, all I want is to keep their feet warm in the crisp autumn mornings that nip at their corn niblet toes. Boy and girl.