Wednesday mornings time stops the moment he pats my arm always awakening from the kind of dreams I have when I can go back to sleep after getting up too early.
He has a lot on his mind. A worrier. I hurt my back and alarmed him with some pain noise. He asks if I'm going to die. I really hate burdening him with 'someday'. Small friends distract and soothe.
2 comments:
The sunlit green and that amazing light full boy! Glorious. Meanwhile, I know that state of waking when one can return and dreams in the twilight state have often been entertaining.
I wonder when one might let a child think and talk about death. When they're ready I suppose. That fierce red toy might be his guardian against the knowledge of mortality, or might be the thing itself.
I should have put a quarter under its feet for scale. It's tiny.
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