masters over.i cant decide whether i should take the 6th as the symbolic closure of my uninterrupted career as a student or consider the last working day a couple of months back as the parabola of a convex trajectory
if it is going to be the last working day,then its just a faint tint/i dont remember much of that day/
on the other hand 6th was a ritualised acknowledgement of the end of college/drinking eating and suchlike/therefore probably it will remain longer as a memory/
before when ma stitched often,i was fascinated by the craft/the box which held the sewings was full of buttons/from shirts that were torn/those that were no longer there/the eyes of teddies/and the big buttons from their jackets/assorted buttons that ma would never chuck/shed put them in that box and find an appropriate use for it/
with its drop(accidentally)the box would scatter buttons all over the floor/under the bed/if it was a dark button,camouflaged by the darkness underneath the bed/or hidden behind the legs of the furniture/
on such occasions ma would fetch the broom and sweep all over the place/most buttons got recovered/
and sometimes there were unexpected finds too/10p coins 25p coins/a missing receipt/erasers that had been replaced/which therefore would now be saved and put aside till the present eraser was lost/
it was easier to think ma was just habitually thrifty but more than once i had seen her thoughtful after sweeping the floor for buttons/and shed already gathered like hundreds/after a small pause shed be onto the floor again,looking/her face stern with determination but if you noticed carefully with narrow eyes that suggested uncertainty/
i knew from the second time that even in that heap of buttons she remembers a one that she did not find among those that she picked up/the uncertainty was maybe because she wasnt sure if shed already used it/
shed find it though/and if she didnt find that button,shed find other buttons/and if she found no buttons shed find something else that would take her mind off buttons