On his back, he says, "That cloud looks like a mother cat and her kitten."
She blocks the sun with her flattened hand. "It looks like she’s suffocating it."
"Your hands, they’re falling all over me," she complains, tensing her body and shifting away from him.
He withdraws. "Have some more cherries," he offers, shaking the small basket.
"My stomach is turning."
He tosses the cherries over his head.
"You’re too close to me."
He slides further to his left, the kept-down grass springing slowly back to life between them, and mutters, "And oh, here comes the attitude."
"But I’m not even mad at you."
"Can I complicate your breathing?" he begs, studying her cherry-stained lips, her pale exposed neck.
"S’mother time," she mumbles, disappearing into the trees.
12 Responses to “Smother”
Choose Your Words Carefully
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Kind of looks like Henry!
i love this story.
I wonder if Vic and Jonny would, as well.
This is clever like all of your stories are, yet so very different from the others. I read it three times. I love it.
It means a lot to me that you like my stuff, MotherBonnie. I still wish I knew who you were!
hello, awesomeness.
my new favorite. simpler then porridge-thumb, but just as gratifying.
xo
I love you, Merry!
Damn.
I hope that’s a good damn?
I like this. =)
Thank you, I’m glad!
Ha! I too like this little story. It definitely made me smile. =)