Quiet footsteps float to Isabel’s sun-kissed room. The only movement are the dust motes dancing and stirring in the soft beacon of sunlight streaming through the only window. Her daughter’s eyelashes still cling together, her face peaceful. A warm finger strokes a silky cheek as thoughts and fear race. Isabel’s mother observes her beautiful sleeping child, wishing her own face would reveal such innocence, such naivety. ‘Come, my love’, she whispers, and with a swollen arm she slowly reaches underneath Isabel’s body and pulls her up to her chest.
The strong morning sun shines heavily through the bus window. The wind rushes past, bringing a tear. Isabel looks to her mother and her cheeks are wet, but she’s smiling. She’s wailing and she’s smiling.
A short extract of a story I wrote.
Sorry for my absence, dears. Everything is happening so quickly lately. Much love to you all. x
photo by neon tamberine
10 comments:
you paint with words. i see what you write.
oh, what a wonderfully rich imagination you have, & a beautiful way with words. lovely xx
i agree with anouk...
you are amazing, dove.
no need to apologise, and thanks for the words :)
I want mooore! I very much love this. Thank you! X
thank you! ;)
thank you lovely.
this photo and post are amazing! x
This was so amazing. I could really see and feel what you were describing. You really have that talent, darling. I would love to read the full version sometime! xxxx
So great!
love your blog, i'm so glad taht i find it!
xoxo
beautiful words and photos.
Helen, X
areyoudressingupordressingdown.blogspot.com
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