Ten Tiny Breaths 0.5 In Her Wake - Plot & Excerpts
“Hey, Mom.” “How’s condo hunting? Did you check out that neighborhood I was telling you about?” I can hear the hopefulness in her voice. That neighborhood is a seven-minute drive from her house. When I first told her that I felt it was time to invest in a place of my own, she struggled to hide the panic. As well as I’m doing—genuinely; it’s not an act this time around—she still rushes to get home for dinner every night. She still calls me every afternoon if I haven’t called or texted her yet; I wake up to a door creak almost every night, sensing her hovering over my bed, listening to me breathe. She never used to be like this. Stayner warned me to expect it. From both her and my dad. I’d get a lot of questions and concerned looks and general overprotectiveness, for a long time. They almost lost me, after all. Twice. “Uh . . . yeah. We’ll see, Mom. Listen, I may stay over at a friend’s house tonight.”
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