house: a (tiny) memoir
I remember in the card and magazine store in the Brookdale Mall, small and separated from my mother, suddenly lost among the familiar figurines and comic book rack. How was I to know she was but one row over? I panicked, and turned into the mall, crying out, but couldn’t find her. Why was I so afraid? A quiet Saturday strip mall in a border town, doing our weekly groceries. I knew about safety, and talking to strangers. Eventually, a mall security guard found me, from the woman who found first and then passed me along, and took me back to his office, giving me some trinket in a vending machines plastic ball to keep me distracted, until my mother showed. Why did I panic so quickly, and so much? What is it about being lost, even in a place that was already so familiar? I knew everywhere I was, the entire time.

house: a (tiny) memoir