The Scarf

Red scarf unspooling like your mother’s mind after she made it. Loop after loop after loop after loop. And she was fine because the scarf was still there and it was still red and it was still the same wool and then it spread and expanded and the scarf was still red and woolen and fluffy. It was turning to string again and she was still her was still her body was still your mother was still her experiences in physical form. But her mind was thread was unspooling and experiences turned fabric turned string, soft and pliant string without patterns and comforting warmth, trying and failing to keep you warm but it’s still the scarf it’s still yours, still your mother it’s still familiar. And you keep the unspooling scarf and you mend it and care for it because it’s your scarf and you wear it til it’s almost no scarf anymore and you want so badly to fix it but you can’t knit and your mother is smiling and hugs you when she asks you who you are, where her child might be, when her husband will come back, she hasn’t seen him in so long, god, she hopes he’s okay.

And you hug her and tell her her child is fine, you’re good friends and she’ll see her husband soon, he’ll be back and he misses her. And another loop drops from the pattern and another loop unfurls from your scarf and your mother is smiling is smiling is smiling as she hugs you asking for her child.

Beitragsbild: https://de.pinterest.com/pin/908953137815673635/