Losing Mom

by Alun Williams

She wore white and I wore black which against the dark blue wall of the hospital ward created its own double negative. My mother listened as I talked and when I was silent she listened more intently. Most people would say that the ears hear everything, but it’s the eyes that listen. She even heard my silence. She held my hand as she had done when I was a child and told me not to come tomorrow. I sat there holding my hands, a jacket draped over my shoulders looking at the empty beds opposite and I felt angry and alone.


Alun Williams, ex-member of East of the Web and author of Elsa Baumann, lives in Wales. He now writes in Critters Bar and Zoetrope under "maxie slim" and "Maxwell Allen." Several shorts by Alun have been published in Write Side Up, Cambrensis and Secret Attic.


Leatherdykeuk said...

So sad!
A beautiful, if traumatic, memory.

Quin Browne said...

the eyes that listen.

i love that line.

Bob Jacobs said...

Good stuff, maxie.

austere said...

loved the part about hearing silences.