The Morning After
I pictured them relaxed, coffee mugs in hand, relishing their supposed victory. My name on the envelope would catch my mother off-guard, a pin-prick of regret in her easy morning.
I knew her reaction almost as well as my own heartbeat. My letter was more than just words on a page; it was the next move in a game they didn’t know I was playing.
My future was no longer tethered to yesterday’s ties.