She opened the door, finally. It took all of her nerves just to pack the bags. With a carry-on in one hand and her baby in the other, she left. She need not look back, for it follows her always, indefinitely.

The moments pass too slowly, as if to give her time to go back. But she refused. She tredded on in the metaphorical sand, making it almost impossible to get anywhere quickly. Time stopped, however, when she looked at her baby girl and thought of what this will make of her future.

This is how mother saw it, 16 years ago. It’s a shame she never actually committed to it.