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FIERY PAST
Even if the last time I saw her was five years ago, I knew that Mother was not this terrifying. She was a beautiful, gentle soul with pretty looks that could propel any man to their feet. This was not her, certainly not!
My hands lunged toward her, longing to touch or shake her awake, but some concealed potency rather held me back to the point that I just stared at her figure, my hands hanging in the air.
Tears prickled the corners of my eyes when I realized I could do nothing to comfort her. My lips trembled and an unwanted lump clogged in my throat as I sank to my knees, my eyes burning as it gazed at Mother’s still form.
I badly missed and needed her back. I pined for the feel of her subtle palm as she rubbed it over my back to comfort me, or the tone of her soothing voice that sounded like it could calm a turbulent wave.
When I tried to speak, a gale-force wind swept me out of the cave and
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