The chatter of people in the grocery store and the woman, who was wearing too much rose perfume, standing in front of her in the cashiers line reminded her of her son's funeral and the people muttering their prayers as they passed by his casket before moving onto her.
She didn't remember what they said, only how they would take her hand in both of theirs.
She didn't want any of those memories nor the ones of him playing in the yard too near the street with a ball before she screamed.
The memories came unbidden, anyway.
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