Riva
I blew the candles on the cake. Then, I clapped my hands, ecstatic with my own achievement. Four years old. I didn’t use to remember this memory quite that clearly. There must be something about being linked to a wolf.
Suddenly, nostalgia swept all around me. As it descended on me, I felt everything. I felt the upholstered chair under me as I sat in front of my birthday cake. The candle flames’ heat warmed my little face. My parents’ presence on either side became more apparent. I could feel them so close. So warm. I glanced at my mother’s smiling face. She was so young, perhaps in her late twenties. Then, I glanced at my dad, a few years older than my mother but no less happy. He was maybe around his early thirties, then.
I couldn’t help but stare. I had never remembered him thi
