Echo

Philadelphia has never considered being a victim to bad thoughts. Not even on days when they sneak up her legs and tickle the backs of her knees. Today, she is lost in a jumble-sale of childhood memories.The smell of November brings her to that first walk alone. And, a memory of the dead bird that she buried next to a tiny jar of water that she had made into a sacred object with her own magic. Little echoes, all day, which add texture to her usual lists.