[L always grows quiet and attentive on the subject of mothers. It's a sort of hunger unique to orphans, because they have not just lost their parents. They have lost an ocean of possibilities, hopes, and promises, forever. It's easy to think that every possibility, hope and promise they encounter henceforth might have been there's, if things had gone just a little differently.
He sets the soup on the couch cushion next to him, holding the spoon in thin fingers and stirring to cool it quicker.]
So... I'd assume that this is one of her recipes. What else did your mother make?
no subject
He sets the soup on the couch cushion next to him, holding the spoon in thin fingers and stirring to cool it quicker.]
So... I'd assume that this is one of her recipes. What else did your mother make?