My Mother Kept Many Secrets
“Nice neighborhood.”- with bars on the windows
- often requires a flight of stairs
- within sleepwalking distance
- (depending on thickness, of course)
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My mother kept many secrets about her past. Could she have possibly spent time in Colloquillia and learned that wretched recipe? The only time I could remember her mentioning the country she had said merely, “Nice neighborhood.” The way she said it, disdain dripping from her words, meant she thought it was the kind of place with bars on the windows, the kind of place so full of vermin it often requires a flight of stairs to avoid them, the kind of place with dangerous cliffs within sleepwalking distance of every bedroom. Not the sort of place she’d want to spend any time. But Colloquillia was so secretive, how would she know that unless she’d experienced it first hand?
My mind was swimming with even more questions than mere moments ago. I stared at the roll of foil in my hand. Covering an entire room with the stuff was a challenge. It was prone to tearing (depending on thickness, of course) and creasing. But it was still my best bet. If I could restore my memory, I might suddenly have the answers to my questions about Ursula, my mother, and any number of other topics.
“Forget the stinky man,” I said. “We have work to do.”
bonus points for using them in order
— the European kind with beaks —