Yesterday he flashed a bright smile and rushed out into the world smelling faintly of pancake syrup. I saw my reflection as he walked away.
Today he’ll pull into the drive with stories of fall semester and bags of dirty laundry. I wait for his smile, his strong hug.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
This was written for Write Tribe Wednesday Prompt: The Boy (Photograph).