I saw the crack on her feet. That pattern I was too familiar with from being raised in a home with lots of clay pots. The pattern that could be traced as a map to tell just how far one had travelled. They were the same lines on her naked feet. She smiled at me, as though aware of my numerous questions. “I travelled a million miles to spend just one moment with you.” And those were her last words.

-m.e. 2020