Yellow just began thinking about the pillar in her old community. How he had left the lady with the long name for her cousin. From the large house next the river that flooded -by the Teddy Bears house- they were shifted to a miners terrace where they’d balance vases on the columns on the plinths in anticipation of death. The terrace was deep and full of natter and wooden stairs that creaked to remind us of their age and presence.
Do you remember how we’d eat chips, curry sauce and prawn crackers and get high on being young, bold and exotic. I still feel the plethora of our dizzy ways and turn red in the face at my lack of anger at what had happened to the lady with the long name, your mother. I still smell the flowers, the study full of books.
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