The pattern of lines in a soft surface are just so brilliant as the ages of time. I trace the lines on your face and think, you’re old now and you need everything in their finest as you are so. I smile at the sight of the wrinkles on your cheeks and mutters, “My mother is so beautiful. I want to be like you. Grow old; hair turns to grey, wrinkles, and all. Love you, Mom.”
I never see you move since last night, you stop breathing, your have no pulse; yet, I hold you close to me.
“Congratulations, Mom.”
YOU ARE READING
100 Words in 100 Stories, eh?
Random[COMPLETED] Another book for compilation of stories but of maximum and minimum of just 100 words each stories. Book language is preferably English. Also, provides different genres. *** Related Stories: Really, 200 Words in 200 Stories, yeah?, Volum...
