Tag: childhood
-
The Endless Months
The morning arrived without a bell or an alarm,just the sun cutting through the curtains,and the sudden, heavy realisationthat tomorrow belonged to you, too. Weeks stretched out like a foreign continent,uncharted, unhurried,with no destination greater than the end of the laneor the cool, dark space beneath the old tree. Time lost its sharp edges.It became…
-
Routine
The text alerts come first,then the aerial footage of the parking lot,red and blue lights washing over the stucco wallswhile parents wait behind the yellow tape. On the television, the spokesmen take their placesto recite the standard liturgy.They call it an unspeakable tragedy,an isolated act of evil,a storm that no one could have predicted. They…
-
Memories of Amoxicillin
There was a bottle in the cupboardthe colour of weak sunshine,with a label half‑peeledand a smell you could recognisefrom three rooms away.Thick as custard,sweet in a way nothing natural ever is,it clung to the spoonlike it didn’t want to let go. We hated it, of course;the way it coated your tongue,the way it lingeredlong after…
-
Path, Two Figures
The older figure walks with a measured rhythm, as if the day has agreed to match his pace. The smaller figure beside him moves with a lighter cadence, testing the texture of the moment with each step. Their hands meet.simple contact.steady.uncomplicated. The path ahead is plain, a strip of gravel that offers direction without insisting…
-
The Edge of the Lawn
He held the edging shearslike the world only stayed steadyif he kept cutting.Like order was a thing he could still shapewith his hands,one clean snip at a time. I stood beside him,small, bright,orbiting his gravitywithout understanding its pull. He didn’t teach with words.He taught with posture,with the slow choreography of care,with the quiet insistencethat some…
-
Ten Fingers, Ten Toes
There was a day the world telescoped to my small hands,palms cupped like two safe houses, toes tucked under like secrets.Perfection was a count: one by one, the little lights,all ten blinking OK beneath the blanket of a house that smelled like toast. I could measure myself then; fingers against cheek, toes against rug,and the…
