She beat the weeds, looking for her son. “How many times do I have to tell him not to wander,” she breathed, her eyes darting as her arm sliced the air, parting bristly brush. “Joseph! Joseph, where are you,” she yelled, stopping to survey the area. The expanse of the field seemed to grow as she slowly scanned the area in search of anything bright amongst dull gold and brown weeds. Joseph loved rainbows and wasn’t above wearing it. It usually made the boy easier to spot in a towering crowd. “Where are you,” she whispered. Quiet was her reply.
|
|
"Classic"
|
