Impressions
When I was a child I thought
like a child. Now I am aged I think
like a child again. There are learning
moments aplenty when we are young
so young and clearly impressionable.
In our innocence we assume. As a
child I had few possessions but
those given me were treasured. No
dolls or toys, occasionally books and
once a tiny tricycle I learned to pump
with my short, plump legs. I loved it
until a street bully grabbed it and I
fled weeping to 'tell my father'. Go
right back and get it, he ordered and
I cowered and refused. He retrieved
it and its allure faded. One evening
when my mother had washed my hair
I girded myself to tell her with bated
breath that someone had fondled me
in a naughty place and I felt fearful.
She recoiled, warned me never
to repeat such dreadful things then
turned away from me. Before then
I had once overheard her boast to a
neighbour that her child never lied
and from that I understood that to
speak truth was pleasing. When later
I informed my mother that my
uncle abused me I was denied
comforting reassurance for
displeasing her. Then I realized
how complicated life really is.
Lost and found is my eureka! blog, my rediscovery of my short fiction and poetry submissions published in literary magazines and university literary journals some decades ago. Interspersed, occasionally, with more recent, hitherto unpublished pieces.
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