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.”
Joey missed her. He really did, though nobody seemed to think so. He didn’t really blame them. He didn’t emote like people expected. He didn’t cry at her funeral, or take time off of work or school. How could a teenager take the loss of his mother so well, they would ask. Did he not […]
Something primeval held her back. She imagined the roar. No more soft breathing and no more “Mommy”. There had to be another way.
I remember almost nothing about him. I just remember he was there, that I cared for him, and his name.
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.