I remember my Aunty Ella without legs. I know she had legs; nothing else could make her so tall, an imposing figure, but my earliest memories, at all, are of Aunty Ella: Aunty Ella without legs.
Technically, she was my Great Aunt but complications such as that are too confusing for a small child. Thus, the name, which she was first never introduced to me as, stuck. She became, way before I could even remember remembering that she was anything other than, my Aunty Ella.
I’m talking about when I was young. When I was really young. When young was a physical state not just a state of mind. Way back in the days before sex began. When it was always summer and rain was exciting. Automatic car washes were an adventure and your only worry was a full plate of Brussel sprouts.
Trips to my grandmother’s house would rarely…
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