Memory

 Night. The quiet whisper of the sea waves. The dark night and me. The cold wind is shaking my legs, the cold feelings are shaking my heart. No matter how tired I feel, there is no sleep in my eyes. My dreams took me back to the bottomless past. A small village, a house on the riverbank. Dusty streets, endless wheat and cotton fields. A woman sitting on a stool in the courtyard, embroidering.. A pain arose in my left chest. A tear flowed from my eyes. Closing my eyes again, I looked at that woman’s dear face. Unlike mine, thin as a bow, slightly furrowed eyebrows, a small elongated face, curly hair falling to her forehead and touching her forehead. Only curly hair and a stubborn character remained as a memory of her. Mom…                                                                                                                                             Hot cakes just out of the oven….                                                                                             Sweet evening tales..                                                                                          My chest hurt again. I miss you mom!                                                                                            

A person is so weak that even his own imagination can hurt him. I gently took off my white sneakers and got rid of my socks. As I put my feet on the warm sand, my body felt a certain pleasure. I walked. Slowly, with fatigue. The waves of the sea hit my feet, and the gentle winds gently caressed my curly hair. As my steps slowed down, the distant past pulled me back into its embrace. My thoughts flew back to that small village. My childhood and adolescence began to pass before my eyes one by one.                                                                                     

Memories of playing in a snowstorm, avoiding lessons, and being reprimanded..                                                                                                                                                       Precious faces, faces that smile but stab you in the back….                                  Another face…                                                                                                                                           A face that always avoids remembering, missing you…                                                         A face that makes my heart tremble when I think of it, my eyelashes tear up….   Oh, I have no more strength left. I knelt down on the warm sand. Suddenly tears rolled down my eyes. Enough…    

                                                     As I stared at the distant sky, I felt that these would never end. Nothing, no one just disappears. All things, events, and people are in our hearts.                     Forever…

Turdiyeva Guloyim. Young literature lover. Author of several scientific articles and creative works. Official member of the “Voice of Girls”, “Young Reformers Council” and “Golden Wing” volunteer.