The Memory Keeper of Kyiv

by Erin Litteken

Now, at the collective, she resented the drudgery of working for someone else’s gain. She could no longer call herself a farmer; she was only a cog in the wheel of the state.

Bobby looked sharply at her. “Did it help you?” Cassie nodded. “I think so.” “That’s all that matters.” She turned back to her icon corner. “When I’m done here, we’ll make the borscht.”

That’s what being a mother was—ripping out a piece of your heart and giving it to your child.

“I decided it was time I stopped disliking them for the bad memories and choose to enjoy them for the good memories. It’s something I’m still working on.”

“We just need to make it through today. Tomorrow will be better,”