Simone Valentino

~~~ 2~~~

I leaned over a stack of newspapers, squinting at the text. The lights at the back of the library were off and the small light I set up only cast shadows on the page. I glanced around my desk and then turned the page of the old newspaper. The page I had open was from the day before the bombing. It's widely known that it was done by the Mafia, but they haven't been apprehended because no one's confirmation of which family. Flipping through the issue I notice some things I didn't remember. There was a baseball game I had gone to, the scores described in the sports section. Then I moved to the next day's issue.

I remember the papers came out late because the bombing happened just before they were all printed. I remember waving my mom goodbye before she left that morning.

I remember when I heard it was her train that blew up.

I glossed over the pages, the obituaries just a list of names, no one photos or any kind of tribute to who they were. Just a name, just enough that you would know. The paper was simply a recap of that day's events, or what they knew at the time. For the months after they had a column for whatever they dug up on it but I hardly read any of it. Turning the page and looking at the names I saw my mothers

"Lyana Johnson'' I trailed my finger over her name and the ink came off on my finger. My eyes water a little as I thought about how much I've changed since then. I felt cliche so I wiped my eyes and continued. I picked up new details I didn't know and after re-reading the rest of the issues that year, I gave up, laying my head on the table my eyes fluttered closed.

"Samson there's another homeless woman!" An old woman with a thick Brooklyn accent hollered over my head and I sat up.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep doi-"

"I know what you're doing!" The old woman resembled a prune and her hair fell in thin wisps. A tall man with broad shoulders and calloused hands came from behind her and looked me up and down.

"There's no way she is homeless, Aylia." He sounded like he had a cold

"I'm a university student! I had to read thes-" I tried to explain.

"Didn't do much reading did you?" The prune said and stuck a finger out towards me. I got up and pushed all my things into my bag. I left the newspapers in a pile and ran out of the building. I walked into the open space of the library and felt the ground fall out beneath me.