Katherine
Mahon
Holmes
writes

As I rose at my regular 4 a.m. hour (it was actually more like 3:40 🙄), in the bathroom mirror I caught a glimpse of myself. My hair has gotten longer—like my adult daughter’s hair. Last night, before bed, in front of this same mirror, I was able to put my hair up high in a messy bun, the way she’s done with her hair forever. Her beautiful blonde hair, with natural lowlights, has not been short since the fifth or sixth grade (which was also just as beautiful on her). So she

By Katherine Mahon From The Aputampkon Review, Vol 1 Voices from Downeast Maine & Coastal New Brunswick Canada 2006 pages 100-103 Revised, May 2023 Gram poured her coffee into her cup, every morning. Dropped in one spoonful of sugar and stirred. The spoon touching the edges as it circled around and around, stirring more than necessary, making a clinking sound that annoyed my mother. That sound irritated my mom every morning of her life since she could remember. My mom never