After an 11-hour shift, my mother would take off her scrubs, eat cold noodles, and knock at my door. We would settle by the glow of my tiny TV. Me: Princess Peach. Her: Jigglypuff.
Ready… Go!
I dealt her blow after blow. My kick: I miss you. My frying pan: You don’t spend enough time with me.
While I fought, Jigglypuff would sing. An eternal lullaby, laying my golden head to sleep. Come on, I chided. Hit me! But my mother would just smile, content to watch over me, content in the brief seconds I was at rest.

Evelyn Maguire is pursuing an MFA in Fiction at UMass-Amherst. Her writing can be found or is forthcoming from The North American Review, Cypress, and Sink Hollow. She is the co-founder of @overheardlit