There’s the lingering fear that I’ll no longer be able to hear my son’s voice.
It had all started about five or six years earlier, around the first time I fell in love. I didn’t know when it would end.
Sometimes I’m convinced no other person will ever know my fragile heart the way I do.
“She touched my hair with fingers fluent in love.”
“Our ability to attach layers of memory to sound makes us human.”
“Perhaps the point of a labyrinth is not to find the exit.”