One night, she lay on her back with her eyes fixed on the bedroom ceiling. “God,” she whispered. “I want to make a deal with you.”
Everyone has a first memory. Over the years, memories fade and shift, altered as we lose the truth behind them and start to shape them based on our retellings. Earliest memories may fade into still images, as many of mine have, but we all still have them. They linger on. Some are cherished, but not all.