My mother’s last meal was cornflakes and I wonder did she spill a drop of milk, did she relish every lingering mouthful, did she know somewhere deep inside her soul that this was effectively her last supper.
Flushed and anguished
Pain obliterates, raindrops cascade down the dirty window pane.
One last breath
A sigh before death.
©Alison Jean Hankinson
I haven’t participated in napowrimo before so this is new to me, I used the prompt for day 6. I have participated in Nanowrimo successfully a number of times so I thought it was time for a change.
Hues of Hankinson 