The aching weight of you

Shrieks pierce my chest. I move quickly and lift you from your crib. We settle in the nursing chair.

The aching weight of you sags my arms. Silence cloaks the witching hour. We’re a raft lost at sea, a flame floating on an ocean of black. You latch on while I sing a lullaby so low it’s barely a whisper. Your head has an earthy heaviness.

Your hot milky smell, as delicate as a moth’s wing, envelopes us. Protects us. My eyes droop, my bones ache, but I hold on, still as the moon, wanting to keep this moment forever.

FF - 24.08.18 - aching weught
PHOTO PROMPT © Carla Bicomong

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This piece was written for the Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple.

Each week a photo prompt is given and the challenge is write a flash fiction piece of no more than one hundred words.

Find other Friday Fictioneer stories here.

Bug Hotel

Charlotte looked up at the towering hotel. Broken pots and dead leaves would make the perfect home for her babies. There’d be food too, an abundance of food, insects a plenty to nourish her young.

She couldn’t let her babies leave, spread in all directions across the land, blown in the breeze to pastures new. Here they’d be together always, she could watch them grow.

It would be dangerous, she’d have to fight for her place. Bigger spiders, a scorpion even.

Her babies squirmed in their silken sac strapped tight to her back.

Not long now darlings, Mama’s got you.

FF - 01.08.18 - bug hotel
PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

***

This piece was written for the Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple.

Each week a photo prompt is given and the challenge is write a flash fiction piece of no more than one hundred words.

Find other Friday Fictioneer stories here.

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