“Home in the Snow, 1971” by William J. Jackson
After a few weeks the VW bug I drove, which I parked at night out by the gravel road a third of a mile from my house in the woods, was burgled.
After a few weeks the VW bug I drove, which I parked at night out by the gravel road a third of a mile from my house in the woods, was burgled.
Your little one needs an established routine. Sufficient carbohydrates, calcium, iron. Limited sugar. Sufficient sleep: eleven to thirteen hours a night. Limited screen time….
One morning, a woman gave birth to a monster. The monster had red skin and howled all day and all night. The woman sobbed when she held the monster….
Autism is you’ve got to say it louder. No, a little quieter. Wait, you have to look at her honey because she didn’t hear . . .
The house had been vacant for a long time, the realtor told me, but she wasn’t sure why.
It was 6:25 am when 4 year old Brianna tiptoed into our bedroom. Dim morning light bounced off her damp cheeks. “Mommy,” she said, chin quivering, “I . . . don’t . . . feel ‘dood . . .”
“Don’t like it! Don’t like it!” the tiny human shouted at me.
The Paci Pirate covets pacifiers. Binkies. Numnums . . . what have you.