Cages & Wings: A Tale of Two Childhoods

A parent's view from a far window

The Weight of Silence and the Lightness of Digital Laughter

The taste of copper pennies floods my mouth as I remember the way fear lived permanently under my tongue in 1985. That metallic tang of anxiety, sharp and unforgiving, coats my throat like a film of desperate quiet. Every morning brought the same ritual: I tiptoed across hardwood floors that seemed to scream betrayal with each creak, my bare feet cold against the unforgiving surface, while I calculated the exact angle of my mother's mood based on the way her coffee cup sat on the kitchen counter.

Tonight, many years later, my phone buzzes with a text from Ylse that makes me smile so hard my cheeks ache. A photo of her and her friends at an escape room, their faces flushed with victory and adrenaline, followed by a string of laughing emojis.

The contrast hits me like a physical blow, settling deep in my chest where old wounds still pulse with phantom pain. Where I learned to make myself small, transparent, forgettable, Ylse expan…