Thứ Tư, 30 tháng 11, 2011

A memory

10 am, I'm violently pulled out of a nightmare as mother calls me from New York. I hadn't even noticed she was gone but it must be important since she brought her eggshell colored shirtwaist dress and her most valued pearls. She tells me she'll be away for the weekend and asks if I mind looking after her flowers. Of course not, I say, knowing she's really talking about something else.

4 hours later: for a while I was relieved to be out of my dream, but it haunts me even as I'm awake. Something is slowly catching up with me, something we never talk about, but for some reason he's still in love with me. I think I need to see him again soon.

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