"Can you tell me another story, Mamma?" The little boy asked sleepily.
The weary woman held her child close and whispered in his ear. "There was a little boy who dreamed of flying. It took many years, but one day he finally flew with the birds."
"I like flying."
Beep.
"I know you do sweet boy."
Beep.
"Do you think I'll fly in my dreams tonight?"
Beep.
The teary mother squeezed her son gently. "I believe you will."
Beeeeeeeeeeeeep.
A man in a white coat looked at the clock with tears running down his face. "Time of death 23:59."
About the Creator
Alexandria Stanwyck
My inner child screams joyfully as I fall back in love with writing.
I am on social media! (Discord, Facebook, and Instagram.)
instead of therapy: poetry and lyrics about struggling and healing is available on Amazon.
Keep reading
More stories from Alexandria Stanwyck and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts7 days ago in Longevity
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.