Mother (First Variation)
Jack. My mum’s not really a mum. She’s more like a woman that had a kid. And I think it was a mistake, because she only had one. And she’s a smart woman, and smart people don’t make mistakes more than once. I think she found looking after a mistake quite difficult. I lived with dad for a while. Except it turns out he wasn’t my dad he was my uncle. One of those uncles that aren’t actually your uncle, they’re just a man with a beard who knows your name.
And I sometimes wonder if it was all my fault, everything that happened. But then I think, no I didn’t have a choice in being born. The matter was out of my hands. It was her choice, and she chose to have me rather than, you know, get me put in a sandwich bag and flushed down the toilet. Or whatever. So maybe it was a good thing for her. At the time maybe. I don’t know.
Sometimes I wish I could climb back inside her. Just sit there listening to her breathing. Heart beating in her chest cavity. And you don’t feel that about just any old woman, do you?
Yeah, I love her I think.