Kathy Bradley - Learning what to keep
From her perch on the dusty mantel of what was my parents’ house, she meets my gaze with an expression of curiosity. Her face is round and full. Her legs — already long for her age — are stacked rolls of baby fat. Her eyes are large and clear. The cream and sepia tones of the photograph mask their color, but I know those eyes. They are pale green, the color of a peridot.
From her perch on the dusty mantel of what was my parents’ house, she meets my gaze with an expression of curiosity. Her face is round and full. Her legs — already long for her age — are stacked rolls of baby fat. Her eyes are large and clear. The cream and sepia tones of the photograph mask their color, but I know those eyes. They are pale green, the color of a peridot.
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