Kiss me 2.1
He fidgets impatiently.
— Almost there, sweetheart, hold the handlebars steady.
Her voice is soft, firm. A mother's voice. A serene voice.
I observe her, my sister. She is wearing a light dress, her hair cut in a bob that lights up her face. She is smiling, truly. It is no longer the tense smile, waiting for the next disappointment, that I used to see. It is a smile that comes from the belly, a smile that has reconciled with the light.