Standing Room Only

A World of Short Stories

Mother of Beauty

I always wanted to be exactly like my mother.  She was the nicest person I had ever met and was always surrounded by people.  I wanted to be just like her, but the more I tried, the more I felt my own spirit drifting away. 

Drifting away to drown.  I found myself drowning in regret for the things I missed because I was trying to emulate someone I wasn’t.  So I retreated.  I retreated back to myself and tried to remember what I liked to do.  I quickly realized I could carry her with me and still not be her.   



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