The Memoirist
Published in

The Memoirist

Lesson Learned From Friendship

I am odd

Photo by Guilman on Unsplash

Dee’s mother stood at the cooker stirring ratatouille and casting aspersions at my arms. Not overtly. She said, ‘Brian bought me a new dress for Spain. It’s got short sleeves.’ Her brown eyes bore into me. ‘I hate it when you see short sleeves and two stick arms protruding.’

What she was really saying was, ‘You’ve got stick arms and I haven’t and I’m not the one in the…

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