My mother stood on her front porch waving goodbye. I was leaving on a bus after a visit for her birthday, going back to my apartment in the city for the weekend, planning to return in a couple of days for a longer visit. She’d taught me to knit. Next week I’d learn how to cast off. As the bus pulled away, I twisted around in my seat to watch her wave. How long did she stay on the porch, coatless in December, watching the bus go down the street? The sun was so bright that day, that last day.
Miriam Kotzin writes fiction and poetry. Her most recent books are “Debris Field” (poetry, David Robert Books) and “Country Music” (short stories, Spuyten Duyvil Press). More about Miriam at the Drexel University English & Philosophy Faculty page.