Oona Out of Order

by Margarita Montimore

Time heals all. But what if time itself is the disease?

Is this what it means to get older, replaying happy memories because the best times are behind you?

There would be bad days, there always would. But she’d collect these good days, each one illuminated, and string them together until they glowed brightly in her memory like Christmas lights in a mirrored room.