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Not Mum

An exercise we did at a writers’ group last night: write 5-10 sentences each starting with ‘your mother’ without involving any ‘ya-mum’ jokes

Your mother’s hair is longer than yours even though she is nearing that age when it shouldn’t be long at all.  Your mother eats Chinese takeaway from the place down the corner every weeknight, and ever waiter there knows her name.  Your mother never stops talking about when she went to Argentina as a young girl, even thought you’ve never found a single photo, souvenir or plane ticket that serves as evidence.  Your mother has been wearing the same handmade jumper for years, even thought the stitches are coming out and tend to catch on things.  Your mother says she was born in Oslo, even thought her birth certificate says Sydney.  Your mother says her parents are both dead, even thought an older couple rang the doorbell a couple of days ago and asked for her.  Your mother ran away.  Your mother decided Perth was a nice place to go to all of a sudden.  Your mother doesn’t call herself a mother any more.

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About E.K.M.

Studying at university, passing the time until a publishing Talent Scout comes to pick me up and whisk me away to a world where I can be an author without having another source of income. If only.

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