I wonder what we’re doing here, I ponder as I let him take my hand. It’s been over a month since it happened, and a lump forms in my throat as I force the tears away from my eyes.
Children walk past me as I knit the sweater, cold air stinging my cheeks as I finish the last of my wool on something that I hope will fit my grandson.
I’m surprised that she’s agreed to come with me, I think as I take her hand, tears dripping down my cheeks. It’s been forty-five days since she had a miscarriage.
I figured that I’d try out limiting myself to a hundred words just to see where it took me.
Please leave a comment telling me if I should have extended it … or … if you think I should improve on something desperately (Because I do have much to improve on)