Ying-Ying St. Clair
My daughter has put me ii of rooms in her new house.
"This is the guest bedroom," Lena said in her proud Ameri way.
I smiled. But to ese ways of thinking, the guest bedroom is the best bedroom, where she and her husband sleep. I do not tell her this. Her wisdom is like a bottomless pond. You throw stones in and they sink into the darkness and dissolve. Her eyes looking back do not refleything.
I think this to myself even though I love my daughter. She and I have shared the same body. There is a part of her mind that is part of mine. But when she was born, she sprang from me like a slippery fish, and has been swimming away ever since. All her life, I have watched her as though from another shore. And now I must tell her everything about my past. It is the only way to pee her skin and pull her to where she be saved.
This room has ceilings that slope downward toward the pillow of my bed. Its walls close in like a coffin. I should remin……（内容加载失败！）
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