I picture it: a convention of like minds, congregating, sharing, aspiring to betterment. A conference of healing, for the newly deceased – like limbo, only
Mother lives in me – her hopes and fears now embodied in my choices, this guilt borne of her suffering… and her mother – who
She dresses for company, every day – just in case. Keeps a puzzle at her side – a distraction for lonely times, entertainment for guests.
The house is brand new and we move in without our mother, who is in the hospital getting our new baby. There are three floors
Whatever you do give it 110% Father’s words whirl, confuse, belittle ambiguous, at best, attainment remote I am not enough Good, better, best, never let
A two-story, red brick set on the edge of town was our castle, tall cedars, like a moat, separating us from unwanted onlookers Strategically placed