This is actually two weeks ago’s prompt, but I didn’t catch it until just now, and the inspiring item has such a strong place in my memories that I had to write something. (happy birthday, Elizabeth.)
the book is worn with rough pages
and a softened cover
she sits beside me on the bed
not on my lap
but leaning against, at least when we start
I love reading it aloud
and exaggerating my voice
because she is excited too and chimes in
and throws her arms wide
and we laugh
enjoying this moment with this silly book
of which we both know
every turn of phrase
it is a breather from everything else
that has gone wrong and is going wrong
because the room around us is crumbling
and I am taking care of her (and our other sister)
she can’t really read
these words either
but she knows them by heart
which for right now is just enough.