Smoke. Strong coffee. The sweet grassy smell of evaporating dew. Birds singing as the sun rose. That delicious sense of freedom. And quiet. Not knowing where she’d be tomorrow. Relishing her role as momma’s “little nomad.”
A tiny but furious voice interrupted her reverie. “No! Mad!”
Shaking off the past, she turned to now. The queen of the “terrible twos” demanded attention. Memory lane would have to wait.
Thanks to Sammi for her prompt (nomad) and the challenge to write a 68 word story. Click here for rules and other takes on the challenge.
Tina Stewart Brakebill 