I hold my baby
He's perfect
I touch his little red cheeks with the backs of my fingers.
He cues gently in my arms
I looked up at my adoring husband he is preoccupied watching our son. He gently put his hand on my shoulders and strokes my back.
---------
I woke, my roommate was making noodles in her coffee pot.
"I had the baby dream again" I muttered.
"With your coworker?" She asked.
"Yes" I said laughing.
"Ask him out today...Please"
____
Andrew sat next to me.
"I keep dreaming we have a child"
His eyes brightened "Me too".
About the Creator
Lily Caudill
I take inspiration from my family roots in The Appalachian Mountains of Kentucky. You will find that my works have a darker undertones with a dash of humor. I am currently working on a novel Conflict of Interest. I hope you enjoy.
Keep reading
More stories from Lily Caudill and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Red Mushroom Feilds
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Rabbit came out from his burrow to play cards with Badger. Badger had a gambling problem, but Rabbit didn’t care. She wished she could play, but mother fox had warned her not to play any games with Rabbit or at least any games with money. He was a town hustler but was loved non the less. He had a certain charm that couldn’t be simply ignored. He fully used his silky black fur and long ears to their advantage. (I had once witnessed Mayor Lassie’s Mrs. talk off her pearl collar just to put it around his neck.) The sky began to fade into a midnight blue, so Baby Fox knew it was time to crawl back into her home underneath the roots of the willow tree. Mother Fox was sweeping the dirt with the tip of her tail while she cooked dinner on the stove.
By Lily Caudill3 years ago in Fiction
Miss Persephone's Manual to a Seemingly Ordinary Life
Miss Persephone was found at the dining table, her blue eyes swollen, her tears arriving and retreating like the tides of the ocean. Earlier that day, her family had visited her in the retirement home where she had lived for eight years. It was her eightieth birthday.
By Imola Tóth6 days ago in Fiction
Smart phones, Humans and Aliens.
WARNING. I will be tapping into one of your favorite creative tensions: The absurdity of humans worshipping their glowing rectangles as if they were tiny oracles. There’s something deliciously poetic about that contradiction, and it lends itself beautifully to an instructive proviso.
By Novel Allen5 days ago in Poets
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.