It used to belong to Zoey, but I haven’t touched it for an eternity. Slowly, I bend over and lift up the matching shorts as well. I held it last when I found Amina in front of the house and I was looking for clothes that she could wear, she had nothing to put on. Then I couldn’t get myself to give her my late wife’s clothes, but since then, a year has passed. These are the last items I have kept of hers, as keepsakes. Every time I picked them up, I opened the wound that her loss caused, and I allowed pain to come over me, because the pain still connected me with her, at least. Zoey was my first love, and before Amina, the only one. As I hold her clothes in my hands, absorbed in my thoughts, I wait for the old feelings to come, for depression and agony which used to fill me whenever I thoug
