Your Children Are Not Luggage
Sometimes, when the house is quiet and the hallway light glows under their bedroom doors, I think about that phone lighting up beside my bed. I think about how close I came to letting it ring.
Then I walk down the hall. I check the doors. I listen to them breathe.
And every time, I hear Ellen’s voice in my memory, steady as ever.
Promise me nobody uses them for money.
I promised.
It took one phone call at 1:58 a.m. to understand what that promise really meant.
THE END.