68

ZIMKITHA SIBEKO

Just as I'm about to stand up, my mother's voice reaches me from across the sitting room.

"Zimkitha, my child."

I stop mid-movement and look at her. Her eyes soften the way they used to when I was still small enough to fit on her lap. I manage a tiny smile, just enough to show I'm listening ,even though my heart still feels tight from everything between us.