The Unmaking of June Farrow

by Adrienne Young

suspected that the ache of missing her would mostly come from those little things. The holes that were left behind, empty places I’d stumble upon now that she was gone.

I had only one ambition in my simply built life, and that was to be sure the Farrow curse would end with me. It was as good a place as any to end a story. I

wasn’t the first Farrow, but I would be the last.

he was waiting for me to fall apart just like Birdie was.

Billie Holiday’s “I’ll Be Seeing You,”

“Maybe I’m still waiting for you to suddenly realize you’re in love with me.”

But the breeze that poured in before the door closed was colder than it had been moments ago,

It was happening again, my consciousness splitting in two.

“I think you have your reasons.” Have. I twisted the rag in my hands, staring at her. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. There was something strange about the words. They were so present. Like the future me she knew and loved, the one who’d lived here, wasn’t really gone.

Again, I looked to the fields in the distance, desperately searching for any sign of the red door. It would appear, I told myself. It was only a matter of time. And when it did, I would be ready.

The once-buried plants were now haloed in dark, rich soil, their leaves open to the sun, and when I looked at them, I felt like I could breathe just a little deeper.

And I didn’t think there was any way to ever come back from that explosion of light that had birthed a universe

inside of me when she said that word. Mama.