I watch them as they sleep, the three of them sprawled into each other, their limbs of varying sizes intertwined in the backseat of the car. The oldest rests his head against the window, his arm lays gently across his sister’s lap. The middle one holds her brother’s hand and has lent her other hand to the baby who, in his sleep, has wrapped his tiny dimpled fist around her fingers. Our tiny mess of a car shuttles them through the night, their moonlit sighs mingling with the warm breeze that spills in through the open window, while the road ahead holds steady in its course determined to get us home, seemingly unaware of the fact that we are already there.
Home by Karla Valenti
Filed under Karla Valenti
3 responses to “Home by Karla Valenti”
A story that puts you right in there, I can hear the engine.
This was so sweet.
Pingback: Week #50 – Home sweet home | 52|250 A Year of Flash