Mother

The last time the mother saw her daughter, it was the train.

There was that one careless moment when she looked away. She doesn’t even remember what it was that caught her attention.

It was late. She was working late that night. She remembers.

She remembers that steady blowing wind. She remembers her tired, sleeping daughter. She was holding on to her. Then as her daughter fell asleep, she lay her on the train seat. With her head in the mother’s lap. But then. There was that one moment that she would regret all her life. When she looked away. And her daughter wasn’t there anymore. She yelled frantically for her.

That split second when she looked away.

But then there was something she forgot. Or overwrote.

The last time the mother saw her daughter, it was the front seat of the car.
There was that one careless moment when she looked away. She doesn’t even remember what it was that caught her attention.

It was late. She was working late that night. She remembers.

She remembers that steady blowing wind. She remembers her tired, sleeping daughter.
The mother doesn’t remember the truck that she didn’t see. She doesn’t remember the car she slammed into. She doesn’t remember the part where her daughter died.
There was that one moment that she would regret all her life. When she looked away. And her daughter wasn’t there anymore. She yelled frantically for her.

That split second when she looked away.