< Get 'Rose Shells, Purple Seas' by Damozel | Returning is such sweet sorrow. My mother fell ill on the very day we arrived and became so ill I really wondered if it wouldn't be my last trip home ever. By the time we left, she was back to her old tart-tongued, happy, bubbly (tart bubbles) self, but by the time that happened, I'd already gone through a sort of dim twilight of the soul and had a prolonged, and sometimes painful, jaunt through my own past.
Read about the time I spent clearing out her drawers and closets, and some of what I found, in The Flatland Chronicles.
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