Boil & Stewed

We stayed out of the sun, because our mothers told us we’d age too quick. When we’d ask what they meant, they’d point at our aunts, their youngest sisters, who showed up unannounced and stayed for a month, and then disappeared again some morning before we’d wake up.

We drink hoping that somewhere in the bottom of one of these bottles, a door would open, and we could step through. And that somehow we’d end up in our childhood again, but carrying the experiences we’d earned as adults.

Maybe we hoped we’d do something different, if we had the chance.


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