by Katy Bowman
Jessica's face was so close to mine I had to focus on her left eyeball to keep my eyes from crossing. She lay in the bed next to me, her body long and lean, a contrast to mine, which had not yet shed its baby fat.
"Do you remember when Mom died?" she asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I was only two."
Jessica sighed. "It was really terrible. We had a funeral and everything."
"What was she like?"
"She was beautiful."
"But what was she really like?"
"I don't know." Jessica sounded annoyed.
"Don't you remember?"
"I was only three."
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Lovely.
Thank you, Bobbi.
love this moment, Katy. a lot said in a small space of time.
Thank you, Julie. I'm glad the amount of information I was trying to convey seems to have come across. I never can tell in pieces like this whether I've been successful.
You were successful, I'd say. it's very telling of a relationship between the two. Nice.
I'm so impressed by how much you convey about these characters' relationship in such a short space. Really lovely.
Thank you so much, Susan and Colette!