It was a Saturday. Whether it was hot or cold, I cannot remember.
I do remember that it was a Saturday because the mall was packed. I was with my mom.
Mom is short. Skinny. It is easy to overlook her in a crowd simply because she is nothing extraordinary to see.
I remember I was looking at the people we passed We strolled down the slippery slick tiles with soft-inconspicuous steps, peeking at window boutiques- we both knew we wouldn't be buying much, like always.
I remember I was looking at the people we passed as we walked- at first apathetically, but then more attentively.
Ladies wore five-inch high heels that clicked on the floor and bright important clothing. Men strode by smelling of sharp cologne, faces clear of wrinkles- wiped away with expensive creams.
An uneasy feeling started to settle in my chest. I tried to push it out, but once it took root it refused to be yanked up and tossed away. It got more unbearable with every second until I could deny it no longer...