Sleeping Giant
You! Sleeping Giant! You, the beacon of life's end. Dawn of one's new day.
You! Sleeping Giant!
You, the beacon of life's end.
Dawn of one's new day.
About the Creator
Rebecca Ridsdale
she/her
Earthy and funny. Intense and structured. Poetry is passion. The rest is practice.
Owner of Four Truth Wellness and Soul Travel Hypnosis
https://www.fourtruthhypnosis.com/ and https://soultravelhypnosis.com/
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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 Munson3 days ago in Fiction
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