And Then Her Voice Mail Started Talking to Me: NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 18

Quick — we don’t have much time.
I can only talk to you for a minute
before they find out that I’m not really dead
or not really alive, one or the other.
I need to know right now whether you want me
to order you that new picnic table, or whether
I was a good enough mother, and whether
you forgive me for all the things I don’t think
I did wrong, as well as all the things
I know I did wrong. I need you to listen
carefully. I have enough nightgowns
and slippers. Things here get a little boring
without you. But I’m OK. Tell everyone
that I’m OK. You be OK, too, and let me know
about the picnic table or newspaper clippings
or whatever it is we were talking about. You
don’t understand what it’s like to try to think
here. You don’t understand yet, but you will.


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