My godmother

I was sitting at home studying when the phone rang.

On the other line was a voice that was filled with emotion.

“Mem, oh, Mem, how old are your now?”
“Eighteen.” Who is she?
“I remember you. I remember you when your were so young. I am your godmother.”

This elicited more emotion than I had imagined. On the other line I sobbed alongside her trying to remember here face, her voice.

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