Very much just another blog

My mother

with 3 comments

My mother is sitting on a seat on the top deck of a bus, somewhere towards the back. Her eyes are shut and she looks so peaceful and happy, smiling like that. I don’t know where she is going and I don’t know where she has been. I only know she’s on the bus because, by chance, it takes a route that happened to cross my walking path and, while I waited to cross the road, I looked up and saw her there.

She didn’t see me, of course. And even though my arm raised before I knew it had and my lips parted to begin to call, I stopped myself and no sound escaped. I watched the bus move away and stood in the gap of sunshine it left behind.

The air is warming now. I remove my coat, lift my face to feel the sun. I close my eyes briefly and imagine the lines of travel across London: my mother, my friends, the people at work, my own; the line from where I am now to where I will go. A thousand million paths crossing each other, weaving a web to walk and rewalk.

My mother is sixty-two. I am so scared. But it makes me feel better to think that she is there, and that one day I will be on the top deck of a bus with my eyes shut and smiling.


Written by elikafm

March 11, 2010 at 11:53 am

Posted in Uncategorized

3 Responses

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  1. I think about my mum too sometimes…but I think of all the places she’s been to and wonder what she saw in her lifetime and whether what I see is the same with what she did. She died at 42 but I wonder what it’d be like now if she were alive. Being scared makes you (or well, at least does me) feel more grateful for all the small things, things I wouldn’t have noticed or cared about before and it’s good. Weird but good!


    March 12, 2010 at 8:15 am

  2. Yes. You alway hit.


    March 12, 2010 at 4:29 pm

  3. I like it, and the comments that it triggered.
    Keep on writing.

    Alan Sky

    March 15, 2010 at 1:57 pm

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