Sins of the Mother


  She flipped through the pages erratically, hounded by the possibility of her daughter arriving home early from school – though no such precedent had ever been set. She knew it was the guilt that was fostering such unlikely scenarios, but she couldn’t help but continue to rifle between the scrawled entries, searching for keywords; unprotected, clinic, pregnant. If she knew her daughter as well as she thought she did, pregnant seemed like a line Anna might underline. Maybe twice.

  She knew of the sacred trust bound to – and within – a diary, she was well aware of the unwritten laws she was breaking as she scanned every line with a haste she didn’t know she owned. The desperation in her search for reassurance was a demon she was wholly unaware of harboring until a little while ago, having stumbled across a strip of three contraceptives. A discovery which – for all intents and purposes – should instill confidence at the very least of safe sex. She knew this. She knew how irrational she was being. She continued frantically to search listening – ever intently – for the catch of the door downstairs.

  “I didn’t sign up for this,” she sighed as she reached the final entry – an entry marked, infuriatingly – June last year. Maybe the art of diary-keeping had an expiration date these days. Regardless, motherhood hadn’t seemed nearly so complicated when she was letting her boyfriend go bareback all those years ago.

  Sins of the mother. 


~ by Joseph Blame on April 19, 2011.

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