“... if that diamond ring turns brass, mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass…” I sang to myself quietly, dragging the words the way my mother used to do. I wasn’t a particularly good singer, nor did I like singing, but ever since that dream two days ago I couldn’t get the song out of my head. Listening to those words instead of the overbearing silence of the room while I waited for something to happen, was the only thing keeping me from going insane. “And if that glass gets broke, mama’s gonna buy you a winter cloak…”
I had thought I had forgotten her voice, her face, her gentle touch. Maybe it was this place or everything that was happening around me, but those memories suddenly seemed brighter and clearer than ever before. I remembered her blonde hair and warm blue eyes;
