So I stay.
The last time she returned was spring of 2023. She was thinner, quieter. The wildness in her eyes had softened into something like acceptance. “I’m done running,” she said. “I just don’t know if I remember how to stand still.” We tried. We really did. We planted roses. We listened to old Billie Holiday records. We sat on the porch as the light failed, and she would lean her head on my shoulder, and for a moment, the world made sense. OldHans - Monika May -25.08.2024-
Likelihood: 40%
She had left a note on the kitchen table. Just four words: “Gone to the garden.” So I stay