''A memory, by Adrena Calero
Sometimes a memory can reappear like the hole in a shirt, that you desperately tried to fix with threads and a needle. If the sewing was done poorly, then the hole will eventually reappear.
I have some memories from my childhood, that leaves me with an empty hole. I've tried with threads, needles and stitches to close it, so I'd forget. But I did it poorly, so they tend to open back up, if they feel even the slightest pull.
My father wasn't a bad man. He was a scared man. He knew, that no good would come, from being with my mother. He also knew, that no good would come, from being with him. So he left. Like a thief in the night, he snuck out, leaving invisible traces for me to follow.
But he did leave something behind, that he didn't expect that I'd remember. A conversation he had, with my mother, shortly before he decided to leave us.
