My parents are back in the place I lived in for five years.
Just for a vacation.
Five years of my teaching and drinking and having child and marriage and being and learning the living.
They are in the midst, my mothers skirts brushing at the strokes of my history. My fathers golf swing smothering the memories and moments of mine.
It is strange. They to be meeting with my ex husband. For him to give them a box and for him to give them papers.
It all feels strange. And unreal.
Is this my life or anothers.