This is the introduction to Sue Westwind’s book Lunacy Lost.
Marie Elton stared at the dust balls revealed by morning light. How did those get there? Hugging a baseboard behind the sectional sofa, dirt in corners always accused her. Their gray, puffy dots marked her secret scorecard: how was she managing house and family? Marie turned on her heel to find a mop. She was not my mother yet.
Agnes’ door was wide open; to Marie, it sounded like the old woman was clearing her throat. Was she congested today? Marie thought she’d check, and padded