When I was pregnant with Cohen, I used to tell him stories. I would rest a hand on the curve of his tiny back beneath my skin, close my eyes and lower my voice almost to a whisper. I would send feelings of utter peace through my blood, from my heart to his.
As the sun slipped silently below the horizon, the sunset elves climbed down from the clouds with their watercolour paintboxes and began to work. First, a little orange stripe, then a puddle of pink. Maybe a little purple tonight, and ultramarine blue brushed lightly across the underside of the clouds. Turquoise brush dipped into theContinue reading “Small World Stories – Sunset Elves”