A Stranger's Memory
She vacuums and sorts the laundry before confronting the mound of greasy dishes in the sink. They’re the same dishes she washed yesterday and the same ones she’ll wash tomorrow—John’s stained coffee mug, Danny’s bowl with cereal bits glued to the side, the baby’s cloudy bottles…. The hissing water burns her worn hands.
Who was she before she became mother and wife, maid and cook? She tries to remember, but those memories belong to someone else, a vibrant stranger. Perhaps her identity washed down the drain with the dirty water. It doesn’t matter now. The floor still needs mopping.