Recur

Again? Not again. Not this again.
We’re moving. Moving to a new home.
It’s too soon to start over, but what can I do?
Mom and Dad are talking to an old lady whose house is for sale.
"Mommy, don’t buy it!” I tug on her arm.
“Honey, nothing’s decided quite yet.”

I can’t make out what the old lady looks like.
Is she nice or mean? Tall and thin or short and stout?
Her voice is there, but I can’t remember it at all.
The house is big. That’s all I can recall. Big, with a backyard.

There’s a little playground here in the backyard.
My sisters have started playing without me.
I climb on top of the monkey bars, up onto the sandbox.
Sinking. I’m sinking! I can’t get out.
I’m completely submerged
In my blankets.