Moments

There are times when everything you see is black, white and drab. Then you blink, and something in your field of vision suddenly stands out in vibrant colour.

The electric kettle quit four months after I bought it. The receipt has been waiting patiently, laying where I carefully placed it on the day the kettle refused to work, watching the stove boil water, over and over and over. Today, I somehow forgot that the kettle had stopped working, and I boiled the water in it for my tea. Time heals.

My mother called. In the background I could hear my father working his bastardry, it still makes my stomach lurch and my eyes squint. Time changes nothing.