My mother’s a fragile bird. The doctors say, “she has less time.”
In her bedroom, she’ll ingest water, finger-food… crumbs. And I’m in that bedroom, lingering, opening one window, so she’ll feel a nudge from the pines. I’m in that room opening all the windows in case my mother flies.
Angela Carlton’s fiction has been published in Every Writer, Everyday Fiction, 6S, 50 Word Stories, Spillwords Press, and Paragraph Planet. In 2018, her story “The Roommates,” was made into a short film. In 2023, her story “Swallowed,” was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. See more at Angela Carlton Stories & Art on Facebook.
Feeling the love and sadness at the same time. Beautifully written piece.
Written lovingly by a southern daughter who knows the ties that bind are rooted in nature, beautiful story.
Feeling the despair and vulnerability wrapped in selfless hope for a peaceful transition. Always such deep imagery! Well done!
Beautifully written! Brings a peaceful calm.
Hugs! Very moving.😪
As the others said… Very good and touching!!
Thank you everyone for your lovely comments…a real-life experience that I had a hard time getting on paper.
Amazing story. ❤️🙏
Great one here.
I wish things were better but this story makes it seem better. Nature is always a big help. You have captured the moment of peace.
Beautiful, resonant images. Lovingly told story. ❤️
This is great… Keep carrying on our family genes of talent..You deserve the praise!!