Mary watched the blue and green diamonds of light scatter the shadows around her. Outside, the vine wrapping her home held two crimson roses even though it was winter.
“Life has a way of enduring,” she thought as she tucked the folds of the blanket tighter around her child. “Even through death,” she whispered as she kissed his still-warm lips.
She knew everyone would expect her to weep, and perhaps she would in time. For now, though, she was focused on the peace of the light, which haloed her beloved son like a crown of jewels. Instead of sorrow, she felt hope.
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A serene picture, Alethea… and given where this photo was taken, recalls perhaps a moment of history. x
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Wasn’t quite sure where I was going to go with this one… π
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You go where it takes you π x
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π
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Heart-breaking, but good that her heart still has space for hope and is not filled only with grief and despair.
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I agree. It’s not what I thought I’d write, but it’s what came out.
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Stories have a life of their own, we are just a medium.
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Alethea: Wow.
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Thank you, Cynthia π
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Gorgeous, Alethea π
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Thank you, Debby π
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π
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