I hope I brought out the frozen beef for lunch. “Ma’am … “ I can’t imagine the extra hours I would have to put into our dinner had I not. “Sorry, excuse me ma’am…” Wait, what about the frozen vegetables? I worry, gently rubbing my fingertips against my forehead, smoothing the lines that are starting to form. Voices begin to resound around me, but I can't seem to find where it's coming from. With my hands over my ears, the sounds become muffled. But it’s not enough. I need i

in the back of my mind there’s a door big hardwood door painted white, cracks in its paint a testament of time that’s passing by. the door left ajar, invites to a storage-like room, where one can stop by and think of all the things that lay covered in dust, present, and past, in my mind’s labyrinth of tall, standing shelves. on one shelf, there’s a home: cozy and warm, parental love, filled with laughter, music, and games, blankets and hugs, kisses goodnight, my duvet tight;