Well, last week’s story seems to have cased more confusion than fun … including for me; I have literally no idea what some of you read there, because your comments most definitely didn’t correspond to what I meant. But this isn’t a complaint; I love seeing how my writing acts on people in unexpected ways!
This week hopefully less subtle, but I await your comments as ever! Thank you for Rochelle for prompt and leadership.
What Dreams May Come
Mick had dreamed of boys playing on his old swing set and climbing the fruit trees. One after the other, his boys came and went, two before they took breath, another without taking a step. He grieved as much for the dream as the babies, although he’d never admit that to Brenda.
Then the real kicker: twin girls, and all the children they could afford.
Mick took down the swings and built a pink playhouse under the apples. It rested unused until one day Mick noticed Sally stretching up from the roof and Ellie perched above her on a branch.