At this point, it hurt to do pretty much everything. At this point, it was hard to even see below my waist. But there I was, down on my knees in Granny’s rose garden pulling leafy green weeds from the dry soil, rubbing my swollen belly as I did so.
I pulled an orange rose from the bush I was at and tucked it behind my ear.
“Hey Gram.” I said aloud, not feeling crazy in the least, “She looks great doesn’t she?” No response, “Almost due, you know. Three more weeks!” I smiled widely at myself, “Thinking ‘bout naming her after you too.” I could almost feel her smiling down at me when I spoke those words.
I struggled to my feet, trying to balance myself before I toppled backwards. “I’ll be back Thursday, okay?” I said smiling, tucking the rose back into place.
YOU ARE READING
Drowning in Roses
Short StoryWhen everything, the people she loves and everything she's held onto, is dying around her, roses seem to be the only things full of life around her.
