My mother smiles because she never used to. Her hair is in the shadows and her eyes have been forgotten. I tell her that everything is frightening now. Nothing is safe. She tells me there are worse things, you know. There is something worse than fear. She says that there are rocks in her pockets wherever she goes. These are the consequences of being alive. I remind her that she is ash in a box and inside that box it is dark all the time. She doesn’t react. She never does. I’m sorry, anyway. I didn’t mean it. I never do.
Kaitlin Yaffe
Kaitlin Yaffe is a writer based in Los Angeles.