...

...Mum looks at me, her eyes are wet. Her lips are parted. She is very, very sad. Her hands are outstreched. She wants me to hold them. I observe her brown hands, nails cut, leaving a modest amount of white. The bends of her fingers are dark.
As I take her hands, I realize I've forgiven, and that I'm understanding and relating. We swing into a hush embrace. I come to the realization then, that I will momentarily detach from one that I love.
I then hug Nestle, her skinny warmth engulfing me.
Something in my mind screams that I've learned to love now, and that I ought to be ashamed, because now I must leave.
Marginal looks at me, or into me, with those blue eyes of his. "You've got Andeev's timid peepers," he jokes. Everything he says is revolving his late boyfriend. I wish he'd stop, for I miss him too. I put a hand on his shoulder and give him a distant hug.
The harsh knock on the door shakes us from our being solemn. I trail out, into the place where all others avoid. ...