A Life Lived in Hundreds

by Botched Lobotomy

1397

‘And here it is,’ said Twilight, opening the door. They’d done as much to make the room warm and cozy as they could, strung up paper-chains and stuffed toys and filled the shelves with books. Smith had tried her damnedest to make it feel as much like home as possible, full of all the little things and smells that made the word, everything a kid could hope for, everything that she had hoped for, all those years ago.
And still, little Bright Mac looked up at them with trembling eyes and asked if he could sleep in their room, tonight.

Comments

[Bicyclette]

and augh. Smith's foalhood was not too long ago to the reader, but she is separated from it by decades here. there is something somewhat akin to vertigo thinking about a story like this. and just this pure desire to do all she can to give what she had hoped for at that age, i love that