20 The Mother
I watch her from the hallway as Thom talks in a whisper, explaining my presence. She glances towards the hall a few times and fiddles with her hair and her cardigan, obviously more annoyed she doesn’t have time to fix herself up rather than the fact that Thom wants to invite a complete stranger into her house.
Yet, Thom doesn’t think we are strangers. He likes me. He told me we do know each other. And he’s right. We should be together. We should all be in this house, supporting each other, finding answers about Daniel.
I don’t feel prepared as she walks towards me. I see everything I have observed from afar zoomed in: the cracked texture of her soggy tissue, the separate strands of her wiry hair scooped into a clumsy ponytail, the wideness of her pupils and the crowd of e
