The other day I found her passport in her drawer when I was putting away my dad's laundered handkerchiefs. I wish I hadn't. For the purpose of my story, she should have it with her. I sat on my dad's bed and flipped through page after empty page. No stamps. No exotic locales. No travel-worn smudges or creases. Just the ID information and my mother's black-and-white photo which if it were used in a psychology textbook on the meaning of facial expressions would be labelled: Obscenely, heartbreakingly hopeful.
The narrator discovers her mother's passport in her drawer while organizing laundry, which surprises her because her mother’s travel history appears nonexistent, with no stamps or markings indicating recent trips. Despite her curiosity, she wishes she hadn't found it, implying some unresolved feelings or secrets related to her mother's life or intentions.
She then examines the passport's pages and notices only her mother's ID photo, described as painfully hopeful, highlighting an emotional undercurrent of longing or unfulfilled dreams. The narrator’s reflection suggests a deeper story about her mother's hidden feelings or past that remains concealed.
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