My mother called me in the night, her profile picture glowing. She announced she was moving us: to a place she once called home. A place I have only ever visited. In my bones I feel how right it is.
My gaze still lingers on the people who cannot follow.
Seven is a writer living in Brooklyn (but not for much longer), who is trying to accept the reality that things never stop ending.
This is very poignant. Ouch.
P.S. Also—the title does a lot of the heavy lifting. Good choice for a title.
Thank you! I’m glad it was able to touch you as well ☺️❤️