The RemembeRed memoir assignment this week, from Write on Edge, was provided by Galit. She asked us to conjure something. An object, a person, a feeling, a color, a season, whatever we wanted. The catch was that we weren’t supposed to tell what it is, conjure it. In 100 words.
“You already locked them. Twice.” DW states.
“So. I’m locking them again.”
I march through the house checking every lock, nimble fingers pressing doors firmly, securing them against their wooden frames. I turn on all outside lights. My feet move swiftly in and out of each room without reminder.
Blinds are drawn.
Night lights are on.
Children are tucked in. Again.
Standing at the top of the stairs, I look and listen for anything unfamiliar.
“Did you hear that?” I whisper to no one, clutching my cell phone. DW has gone to bed.
I am frozen in the darkness.