/lit/ - Literature

Mother drove me and picked me up from school for ten years. This stopped when I got a driver’s license, a car. What the hell did we ever talk about? And why can’t I remember? Where would ten years of conversations suddenly go to, now that I am trying my best to get back to them, my hand somewhere fishing in the mud and mire of memory? Pretty soon I won’t remember anything at all. Then I will be dead.