Goodbye to My Don
The taxi rolled through the bustling streets.
I leaned back in the seat, sunlight pouring through the glass and warming my face, yet I felt numb to its gentleness.
The warmth I once knew had been buried along with my mother and baby.
The driver, an elderly man with silver hair, glanced at me through the rearview mirror.
After a pause, he said softly, “Don’t look back, sweetheart. Look ahead.”
He spoke the words I hadn’t dared to say aloud: “Look ahead”.