By Anna Sanderson
Mom cleaned my apartment today. Months of mess and painful memories swept up, thrown out, hidden away. I should have been grateful, said thanks. Instead, I yelled.
“Where is it? Where’s his bear?”
“I don’t know.” Tears shone in her eyes as we searched frantically. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
It sounds stupid, arguing about a toy. But it was Sam’s favorite, worn with love and still carrying his scent. Another piece of him lost.
Later, both defeated, Mom wrapped me in her arms, insisting she understood. She was wrong. How could she possibly understand? I’m still here; my child’s gone.
Powerful. So many feelings. Thank you!
Powerful
Sad but at the same time heart-warming. This one will linger in memory…
I like flash fiction and this fits the criteria well; straight in there with the old one two! Only thing that struck me as odd; we’re from the East Midlands, England, duck so why the Americanism of ‘Mom’? I like British writers to write in English, English. Would like to read more of your work.?
Well done, you’ve shown the power and pain of parenthood.