Mom Pov - Sandra

The front door clicked shut.

The silence stopped feeling like abandonment and started feeling like space. I realized that from my usual point of view—the frantic, spinning, "everyone needs me" vantage point—I had never actually seen myself. I was always the camera, never the subject.

And slowly, something shifted.

This is the story of that day, from my point of view.

That’s when I heard it. A soft thump from the hallway. I turned my head. Peeking around the corner was a small, grubby hand, followed by the guilty face of my neighbor's three-year-old, Leo, who had apparently wandered in through the unlocked back door. mom pov sandra

Silence.

I didn't scream. I just stopped. I took off my earring, put the toast down, and walked to the living room. The front door clicked shut

We ate pizza on the couch. We left the mess in the kitchen. The dog threw up again (different spot). And for the first time in a long time, I laughed.