15th
Because It’s Nice
There’s a picture of my mother on her wedding day sitting on the floor, her white dress swirled all around her. At the edge of her gown lies her bouquet. I stole the proof out of the proofs album she hid at the top of my brother’s closet. It slid out of my bag as I was getting ready to leave home today and my mother gave me a look.
“Don’t worry,” I told her, “it’s totally the only picture of you I’ve stolen from this house so you don’t have to worry.”
“I know you have more,” she said always so smart.
“I only have one more…the one from your engagement party when you and Daddy are looking at each other.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t have it up in my apartment now. I used to have it on the inside of my bedroom door at my old place so that only people who I felt close enough to be in my room with my door closed with would see it. That’s where I kept my pictures.”
My mother looked at me funny and called me weird.
