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Sunday, March 21, 2010

March drabbles - 21

They say children forget, but I remember eyes gummed like fire, scents of washing, or spring in my nose, with knives underneath. The yellow when I saw it wasn’t sunshine, wasn’t my room. No strength, I couldn’t look round, wondered why was I hurt. Flesh lay still, dumbly opposing my will while dampness on my stomach spread the smell. I shouted help and babies cried.

My tongue sucked, pressed on teeth that weren’t there. Then I was lifted, airborne, rag doll flopping, held under my arms. Eyes struggled to focus. Ears heard a whispering voice, “Poor baby.” I can’t forget.

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