9th thread: Your blind aunt will have no children.
When you were born, my sister taught me how to nurse you. If the baby does not feed well, it will not survive. See how I put the nipple in your little brother’s mouth for him to hook on? My sister knew, she showed me with her hands, when she had never nursed a baby herself nor seen one being nursed.
My sister was a comfort to me when we were children. We were raised by our father’s mother, a harsh woman that came from elsewhere and resented us as she resented everything. She terrified us with stories of barbarians from the north who abducted young girls, of foxes with pointy teeth, and other stories even more horrible that I’d rather you didn’t hear.
At night, I would slide inside my sister’s arms for protection. She would stroke my hair and whisper in my ear:
– Our mother was the sweetest, the most skillful, the most beautiful of all the women of the village.
I envied her for having known our mother, before she died by giving me life.
– Tell me, tell me more, I would plead…. To read more, or find out about this project, write us an email