Mother bundled her up. Covering her hands With cotton mittens. Wrapping her neck With an old black scarf, -The one she use to wear Back in her younger days-
"A voice...?" she thought, Raising her head From her knees. Kneeling down in front of her Was the kind-faced maid. "Miss, I have come to fetch you. It is time for supper." She spoke carefully, Trying to hide any emotions. Her head lightly swayed side to side, " No. Don't want. "
When she stepped through the door, Mother was there, Standing a few feet away With her hand out. She took the packets From her inner pocket And handed them to her. Her mother gave her a smile, One that she adored Because it was the one That she frequently saw In the picture frames That hung against the green wallpaper.
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