This is an old post, one of the first on this blog, but it is filling for today. It is Father’s Day so I won’t have time to write a short story for “Short Story Sunday.” I’ll make it up to you later. xoxo
It ran after me through the woods. We’re not invincible like regular humans try to make us out to be. We’re a lot more fragile and vulnerable than anyone knows. The brush scraped my bare arms, I couldn’t breathe. The wound in my neck had reopened. Falling to my knees I held my throat…
I bolted up on my bed. My daughter was curled asleep against my side in a coma like state (like most kids her age, she sleeps like a log). My son Garret was in the window seat reading.
“You ok mom?”
“I don’t know.” I told him, putting my hand to my neck. It was hot to the touch. I felt like someone had hit me across the neck and head with a baseball bat.
My eye went to the dresser where a large exquisitely beautiful flower arrangement took over the room. I could smell the…
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