ANAM FD May. 2015 | Page 89

Aunt Janet Sutton MacDonald When I close my eyes, I can picture a memory. Blurry in some parts, crystal clear in others. I can remember I can remember i can remember white white walls, white floors, white everything too clean, too bright sharp, gleaming, glaring it overwhelms me the smell of chemicals burning up my nose then we are in a gift shop filled to the brim with trinkets and toys and little bobbles of sorts something catches my eye a metallic balloon shiny and large cinderella dances across it her lovely skirts swooshing 89