Pieces #4

She liked to look up at the stars–

twinkle, twinkle, little

–mother had said they were the eyes of the ones who had gone before. She liked to look at the grass–

green grows, green grows the

–mother said that it grew from the bodies of the ones who had gone before. She would think of mother when she was chewing palm fibers to make rope–

hangman, hangman, slack your

–or when she was helping to grind flour for biscuits. Now that she was going to become a mother of her own, it felt nice to think of her mother, and all that she had done for her, all that she had given. The coming children would be loved, well provided-for. She and her husband were going to be blessed with a number of children, so the midwife said. It was in the stars, and everyone trusted them, for sure.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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