You are 38. I am 5. Some memories remain vivid: The smell of lavender powder Mom cutting your moustache in the living room. You’re sitting on my plastic yellow chair holding a newspaper under your chin. Motorcycle rides around Toa … Continue reading
You are 38. I am 5. Some memories remain vivid: The smell of lavender powder Mom cutting your moustache in the living room. You’re sitting on my plastic yellow chair holding a newspaper under your chin. Motorcycle rides around Toa … Continue reading