“Can you see the baby elephant in the sky?”
“Here’s a wild horse galloping.”
Mum taught me to see stories everywhere.
In the clouds. In the waves of the sea. Chipped paint on the wall.
Wreath in hand, I stand outside church, straining to hear her say, Look up, girl.
Beatrice Rao has just discovered flash fiction and is working on the art and the craft of it.
Love this. Beautiful writing and descriptions :)
Very moving. Caught me in the throat.
So lovely.
So sensitive. Great reading.
Beautiful! Short, reflective, deep.
A nice tribute to your mother.
Beautiful! I can feel the yearning.