My mother sits in her chair by the
    fire, unable to see, hear, or even
    think for more than a minute or two.
    Her face ravaged by sun, pain,
    worry and old age, wrinkled almost
    beyond human recognition, is set in
    stone, without expression.  She is
    almost void of thought except for the
    occasional dream that sweeps her
    away to a place where her body is
    young and her mind is sharp.
    Though she is not legally blind, the
    weight of her lidded eyes and
    sagging skin, have spread over her
    eyeballs and rendered her once
    sharp, perfectly almond shaped
    brown eyes, useless. She says in
    her dreams, she is light and small,
    she can smell and see, and she can
    hear bird wings flapping. Like a bird
    herself; in her dreams, she can fly.

    This story may be read in its entirety
    upon publication- ETA Spring 2009
The Dragon Slayer's Mother
©  2007-2008 Katie Wigington
KatieWigingtonWrites.com
A place for my thoughts to live