It's not the time itself. It's the absence. The dull draining away of life and youth. I am watching it seep into the nooks and crannies. I have climbed upon my patchwork quilt, to keep my feet from being stained by all the colors on the floor--liquid green and muddy red, slimy yellow and slick orange. My raincoat, stained, lies on the floor, where I can't reach it.
"Mommy!" I scream.