|
|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||
FIRST KNOWING That second day of kindergarten, I ditched while Miss Clemens bent at the sink, helping Peter Farley wash the paint off his hands. I scurried across the wide green fields that led to the road where our row of white townhouses awaited me. I wanted no more days without my mother placed in the center of every hour. I wanted her voice, the scent of the perfume she dabbed on her writst each morning before we watched my father walk away. We stood at her dresser while she released the stopper from a crystal bottle so blue it rivalled sunlight staining the ocean surface. I wanted to travel with her from supermarked to bank, dry cleaners to drugstore, wherever the days life took her. As if sensing some hunger to come, I craved her with a fierceness that made me run, as if knowing I would soon lose her to a sadness vaster than any of these fields I could cover with the pace of my own feet. - ANDREA POTOS Quote of the Day
| |||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
