Michael sat, the scraps of paper spilled out in front of him. He had been so busy since his mother passed two days after Christmas he barely had time to grieve. He hired a company to come in and take away her things. They donated most of it. These snippets were all that was left. He vaguely remembered her telling him about this. Write the highlight of your week each week for a year. It seemed silly at the time, and he had only half listened. His mother talked, a lot.
Sitting here now, reading her words, he found he missed her voice.
This week’s photo: © Priya Bajpal