Texts: memory

When Memory Starts To Stir

Image without description

I watched from an old upstairs window just straining on tippy toes to see. To see my mother crossing the street way down below.

​She said she’d be back soon and the nice wide nurse said that too. She’ll be back soon. She’s not leaving, don’t worry, just going to get something. Be back soon. But she didn’t even look up as she walked away

Read more…