Sara said all nice things –
she talked about growing up in a garden with daisies
and going home to a mother who made
sweet potato pie for dinner every Thursday,
and a dad who had a car with three rearview mirrors.
She told stories about her brother in a garage
fixing his dad’s car
so that later that night he could sneak out
and watch a movie showing at the beach.
She talked about how she never left her room
except when she had to eat dinner
and how good of a girl she was.
She said she never had boyfriends.
But she also said something about
a tulip growing in her garden of daisies –
some unplanned turns that knocked her
perfectly clean, white socks out from
right below her small feet. She didn’t say
much about how her frames
went abruptly empty somewhere between
the summer of 1922.
I think she forgot to mention why
her fingers shook every time
she talked about college and a career and
responsibilities that were thrusted
on her without her consent.
But, she had vaguely mentioned,
that everything those days happened without her consent.
She does not want to go back –
at least now we have a choice.
Paakhi Bhatnagar is a student from India and an avid reader of historical fiction. She is a passionate feminist and blogs about current politics and feminist issues. She also possess the uncanny ability of turning everything into a debate.