It’s that time of the year again. Flock of little birds swing in electric ropes. Their sweet chirps signal morning’s hope. My eyes are wet again, whenever I see them. How time flies.
My little girl, my first angel, learned numbers when she was barely two by counting those little singers. One… two… become sixteen… to twenty-two.
Gripping my soft blanket, I resist the urge to cry out loud, my husband and my newborn might wake up.
I can’t add up those pigeons any more. My always little girl can count them because she has the best view from heaven.
Word count: 100 words
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Roger Bultot
In response to Friday Fictioneers prompt for 06 May 2016.
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly writing challenge hosted by the generous Fairy Blog-Mother Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction.