Ginger waits for Dwight at the corner donut shop. She looks at the clock. He’s late; she knew he would be. She sits in a window booth, consumes a bag of mini-donuts, and drinks two cups of coffee with cream. The waitress leans against the counter and stares out the window, chewing her gum and twirling her hair. Ginger wishes she were the waitress; she wishes she were anyone but herself. It’s ten past eleven. Ginger’s appointment is at eleven thirty, the appointment to take the swell out of her belly. Dwight promised he would go with her; hold her … Continue reading Donuts; A Piece of an Image or an Image of a Piece