We reclined on the hill, watching the mothers drift by overhead. They were slow today. The sun squeezed their heads into matchstick silhouettes….
| precious little fictions in 500 words (or less). |
| precious little fictions in 500 words (or less). |
We reclined on the hill, watching the mothers drift by overhead. They were slow today. The sun squeezed their heads into matchstick silhouettes….