His blue eyes and mousy hair stick in my mind, along with his laughter, so infectious. I can’t hear it anymore, but I can see his face lit up in a fit of laughter, tears welling. But I can’t hear it.
I stop mixing the batter.
“Mom, have you seen my keys?”
I hold up the wooden spoon and try to listen to what she’s saying.
“Mom! My keys!” her footsteps head towards me.
I blink hard, a tear falls as some batter drops back into the bowl. “Sorry sweet, they’re on the counter, by the washing machine… you left them in your pocket.”
“Oh. Sorry, See you later!”
She’s gone. I cough slightly and squeeze my eyes shut, gripping the wooden spoon harder than ever. She’ll be home when she gets hungry, unlike my boy, gone forever.
Charlotte Ford is a writer from the West Midlands, UK. She’s working on various projects and runs her own website http://charlford.com, hoping to break into the writing world as a published author.
“Mom! My keys!” her footsteps head towards me.
I blink hard, a tear falls as some batter drops back into the bowl. “Sorry sweet, they’re on the counter, by the washing machine… you left them in your pocket.”
“Oh. Sorry, See you later!”
She’s gone. I cough slightly and squeeze my eyes shut, gripping the wooden spoon harder than ever. She’ll be home when she gets hungry, unlike my boy, gone forever.
Charlotte Ford is a writer from the West Midlands, UK. She’s working on various projects and runs her own website http://charlford.com, hoping to break into the writing world as a published author.
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