Container opens
Fill with memories each day
With listeners share
About the Creator
Bonita L Peterson
For five decades I have wanted to write and I finally have the time to do it. I am, what I like to call, a bit eccentric others may just call a little crazy. I'll leave it up to you to decide.
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
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