The Bluestocking 2022-23

Emma Ren | Grade 12 Train

Her: Hey Mama, sorry I haven’t been answering your texts. I’ve been preoccupied with work. It’s all paying off, though—I just got promoted. Also, I’m finally taking care of plants like you always wanted me to. They really freshen the air. My friends just texted me to go over to their place today—they said that they prepared a feast. Mama: :) Her: I love it here, I really do. I sure miss living with you and Pops, though. If only I could turn back time and pull him off the tracks when the train came. Mama: :( Her: I’m glad that you’re enjoying your vacation at memory village. I’m happy that you are getting along with nurse Azrael. Mama: :) Her: I’m going to stay in Wyoming this Christmas. I’m so sorry that I won’t be able to make it back for your 80th birthday. Mama: :( A cardboard box filled with a dried-up succulent, fractured computer, and crumbled re search papers sinks into the flimsy twin bed that creaks with even the slightest weight. Expired cold ramen is dumped on the pillow. The fetid scent of rot permeates the room. Junk texts populate her inbox, her messages void of familiar names. Her family photo is framed on the only uncracked side of the wall. The photo, however, has been crushed, ripped up, and glued back together. It has been 20 years since she left home. The glue is losing its adhesion. Her: Holy, it’s raining cats and dogs out here. I better get going. I’ll miss you, Mama. I’ll miss you a lot. I hope you’ll think about me again, sometime.”

Her: “My train is here. Bye.” There is not a cloud in the sky. She is on her way to meet her Pops.

She steps onto the tracks. Mama: Have a safe trip!