This is another short story I wrote as a character’s backstory, and it’s even sadder than The Dust Thief, so be prepared. (Change in tenses was intentional. Don’t throw me under the bus for that, please.)
“Alick! We’re going to the hospital!”
Alick recognized his father’s voice and his eyes widened. It was time! His mother was in labor!
He dashed through the halls, not even bothering to put on shoes, and threw open the door, nearly forgetting to close it behind him.
The car was already pulling out Continue reading “Mourning Marie – Short Story Sunday”