They are part of the image of myself I see, don’t know what I’ll do when they finally wear out. I’m afraid I can’t get another pair like these...anywhere. Apartment number sixty-eight. I look at it and smile. Mom had said she had dodged a bullet with that. I knock. Mom is in sweat pants, socks, and a beige T-shirt when she opens the door. It’s a look I know well. She looks like a comfortable piece of furniture. She smiles seeing it’s me. ‘Come on in. Don’t look at the mess, I’m still unpacking.’. Mom put out a laugh and said, “Oh, my boy has grown up”. I was too shy or confused to reply. But the moment didn’t last long, she just continued to wash out the soap massaging my head. And the day went on just like any other Sunday.But in the evening, she took out the glass and came near the TV. She usually drinks sitting in the hall. Generally while watching TV, my presence doesn’t matter much. She shall watch whatever channel I watch and only when I am not interested in anything, she watches. More

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