Barcelona in June (2007)

I’m on the edge of a city sitting in the sand thinking about her. How she calls herself Mummy to Joseph. He the youngest, thirteen, and she holds on in that word which binds up all the diapers, all the pains, sleepless nights, worries, meals, bills, soothers, an infinity of everything she is. And all I want is to call her Mummy to hold on to her as long as I can. It’s all I want.