Yeah.

Okay, great.

"In the story of my mother and me, a first image would be the Toyota Celica she drove when I was small, pulling into our driveway, her finger pointing at the immense flock of blackbirds perched on the power lines above us.

I am five.

She is 25, unassumingly small, often harried.

She smiles rarely, but when she does, she's extremely pretty.

'If you're bad,' she tells me, 'the birds will know.

Yeah