Eleni
I roll over and tug on the heavy blankets covering the king bed Mama and I decided to share. They don’t move, and Mama’s light snores issue through the darkness. She’s finally fallen asleep. Part of me is thankful, and the rest wishes I had enough blankets to cover myself. As soon as she finished the zucchini balls, she collapsed into one of the tall seats at the kitchen island, weeping. I’ve been at her side, holding her and offering her toilet paper because I couldn’t find tissues, since. Exhaustion still drags off my limbs, reminding me that I haven’t really gotten a good night’s sleep since the night before the auction, but I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking of the smell of blood, and the stories about Baba Mama kept trying to tell through her tears.
With a sigh, I push the co
