Little Inklings 2020-21

46 A car that had been filledwith euphoriaminutes agonowheld thebitter tasteof melancholy. That one phonecall had shattered her emotionsand left her to pick up thefractured pieces. It will comein seven waves, they alwayssay. Each onebetter than thenext, they say. Jamiehadn?t even dived into thefirst waveyet, and already, shehated this. Shehated howthesmell of lavender reminded her. Sheboth hated and envied the carefree, doe-eyed look her younger self held in those videos. Shehated that shecouldn?t viewtheir photos without bawlingher eyesout. Thoseoldmemories pulled her into thedark abyssand drowned her whenever shefelt an ounceof normalcy.Onephonecall would havebeen all it took for them toknowJamie cared. An email, aletter, avideo, asimple, ?Hey, howare you??But no, instead, shewastoo focused on thetrivial gameson her computer. Instead, shehad rather laid in bed scrollingthrough social media. Instead, shehad trapped promisesof visitsand facetimecallsin acloset and never looked back. Yet, it wasthinkingabout those seven wordsthat shespokeat every visit, fromagesfour toeleven, that caused thetsunami of anguish to overwhelmJamie. I. Promise. I.Won?t. Forget. About. You. Seven Words, One Phone Cal l .

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