How a Mother’s Heart Lets Go. {Part 2 in The Caged Girls.}
Part 2: The Caged Girls. She sat alone in a chair, her legs folded neatly beneath her. Her heart felt not so neat. She contemplated the day, how she had reacted to her...
Part 2: The Caged Girls. She sat alone in a chair, her legs folded neatly beneath her. Her heart felt not so neat. She contemplated the day, how she had reacted to her...
Chapter 41. She sat at her nicked, antique dining table clickity-clacking on her laptop. The sky wasn’t dark, yet rain fell steadily. Her favorite mug, the pink one with Dorothy’s ruby slippers, sat next...
Chapter 40. The imprints of some experiences stay with us forever. They swim around and around in our subconscious mind like something stuck permanently going down the bathtub drain. One of these such memories...
Chapter 39. Small flutters of movement ignite her lower abdomen. She’s thrilled to, with no doubt in her pregnant being, finally feel her baby move. Little invisible swimming motions stop her thoughts throughout the...
Visit here for more of The Caged Girls. Chapter 38. Her memories come to her in waves and flashes. Sometimes they startle her in the middle of the night. She sits up in bed, sweat soaking...
Visit here for more of The Caged Girls. Chapter 36. She sits in bed writing what lies inside her chest. It spills out in bursts and pauses today rather than intense moments of clarity. She’s had...
Visit here for more of The Caged Girls. Chapter 35. There’s a fearful quiet that permeates when you do nothing. The silence leaks into my bones and stills my clumsily racing heart—until I feel my heartbeat quicken, made...
Visit here for more of The Caged Girls. Chapter 33. I never liked my nose much, until I broke it. It changed and I realized that it hadn’t been half bad for basically my whole life...
Visit here for more of The Caged Girls. Chapter 32. I can always tell when I’m just about to fall asleep. I get this tingling sensation throughout my entire body. It’s not uncomfortable or scary, but...
Visit here for more of The Caged Girls. Chapter 29. My pen rolls across the paper—fluidly—and my words come out almost sloppily. (It’s not my usual, preferred ballpoint pen.) My fingerprint-laden aviator sunglasses—the ones I’ve had...