People wailed, everywhere she saw. Her husband sat on the steps, sobbing.
But she stood there, statue-like, not a tear in her eyes.
Her baby lay in front of her, wrapped in cloth, covered in flowers, dead.
She just wanted to tell someone, anyone. She did not mean to do this.
He just would not stop crying.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Baby.. My Baby
Its 4:19 AM
This, I guess, falls under.... 55 words, Motherspeak, Murder
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