Monday, January 18, 2016

Day 18/366



Running water pierced her consciousness. "Kyle...is the toilet running again?" Surprised at how weak her voice sounded, Leslie forced her eyes open, wincing at the pain from the piercing light reflecting off of...

"Mom?"

...
"Hi, my baby girl," a hand reached down to help her to a sitting position. "You took quite a knock on your noggin."

Leslie stared in awe at the...fairy standing before her? "Um, Mom? What in the world..."

The blonde stood and fluffed out the skirt of her sparkly lavender ball gown, then graciously tipped her crowned head. "Mother Dear, at your service." Then she giggled.

"I'm still unconscious...right?" She rubbed at one eye, then the other, but nothing changed. Her mother, in full Southern Plantation glory, stood in front of her. Twinkling wand in hand, glass slippers on her delicate feet.

She'd died and gone to...where??

All words property of Deena Peterson and not to be used without permission.

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