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


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.

Author: Jennifer Kennedy

Mother, teacher and writer. I love all my jobs but writing holds a special place in my heart. I hope you enjoy reading my short stories as much as I enjoy writing them!

25 thoughts on “The aching weight of you”

  1. You’ve given us so many delights in this story. I think my favourite is “Your hot milky smell, as delicate as a moth’s wing, envelopes us,” where the blending of smell and touch gives a powerful effect. And almost as exquisite, “but I hold on, still as the moon,” Lovely, poetic writing – just gorgeous!

  2. This one speaks to an exhausted mom, loving her child with such a great intensity that it doesn’t matter how tired she is, she gets up to feed her baby. Brought back floods of memories.

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