Jul 26, 2011
She could not remember much about Mama and her siblings.
No matter how hard she tried, all that came were bits and pieces...
The damp wooden walls of the shack in which mama had taken shelter after her family had cast her out. The hard packed dirt floor, which never seemed to be warm. The dim light over everything from the flyspecked window set high in the front wall near the door. The snow that infiltrated...
The slamming of doors, loud voices in the distance, vehicles speeding by outside the confines of their little world. The wind whistling through the cracks in the walls. The rustling of their bodies in the dry hay.
Mustiness and milk, dry hay and wet pee, mama's clean scent and a whiff of the "others."
The bitter cold when mama went looking for food, leaving them huddled in their rough bedding. The warmth when mama returned and lay down with them.
As the days wore on, she and her sibs began to walk and explore their little world. Endless games of hide and seek, tag and catch as catch can wrestling filled their days; with mama watching from atop her seat, or in her absence.
Then, that terrible day came when mama did not return. The snow outside had melted; she and her sibs had grown well. They were on their own.
The boys left first, seeing a grand new adventure. She and her sister waited, hoping mama would return.
The hunger became too much. They went out, leaving the world as they knew it. They separated, each alone for the first time.
She never saw any of them again.
Going by what seemed right, she found some things to eat. They were good, but not as good as what mama provided. She was lonely and scared. So many big, noisy things going by; night seemed much safer than day.