May 14
7 min read
My Sister the Dominatrix
Some things don’t run in the family.
It was May, the month I dreaded because it meant the arrival of my yearly brunch date with my sister Nina.
I arrived a little late, stopping at a nearby mirror in the waiting area to flatten a few of my wild curls. When I was satisfied — or as satisfied as I could be without an emergency bottle of hairspray on hand — I looked past the…
