Guess who?

After making an apple pie from scratch, my alter ego goes to turn out the gas lamps in the house. Then she mounts the ladder to the loft where her twin babies sleep … they are fine. She descends and creeps into her own bedroom where she brushes her hip-length hair and thinks about the calico dress she is going to start making tomorrow — or should she work on her natural abortion herbal recipe? Outside, the palms sway with magical meaning.