Literature
Lily's Beginning
I rocked my five year old daughter in my arms and smoothed back her wispy chestnut hair.
"You know, Violet, I remember when my little brother Jeremiah was about your age," I said. She looked up at me with her big blue eyes, so like her grandmother's.
"You never talk about Uncle Jere," she said, leaning her head back to rest on my shoulder. "Will you tell me a story about him Mama?"
"Maybe another time, hun," I said, but it didn't matter because Violet's eyes had already drifted to a close. I did have a story to tell her, but it was not one I'd share until she was older. It was less about Jeremiah anyway, and more about myself