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Vestiges - Amanda Magee
The thrum of raindrops on the deck kept a steady pace and the curtains fluttered from the occasional breeze. I was standing at the kitchen sink, the scent of breakfast clung to the morning air as the girls delivered sticky plate after sticky plate to the counter. The slap of their bare feet rang through the house as they scattered to their rooms. Water sizzled, as it hit the still-hot frying pan, sending up a plume of steam. I ran the sponge in circles, the soap’s lather thickening with the heat. The basin begin to fill and my vision blurred with the growing steam. I could hear the girls in the distance and I remembered a time beside another sink in a different house.…