My son lives in Uganda. I live in Maine.
My son lives among wild beasts. I live among libraries, shops, and churches.
My son’s life is filled with soaring birds of a million colors. Starlings and robins dress my backyard.
At night, my son dances around a blazing fire with painted natives. I serenely bring my covered dishes to potluck suppers as the dusk falls.
We reach out across this uncrossable ocean by phone or mail, equally baffled by each other’s choices.
We never stop reaching out.
But his city life excites, like Uganda; my suburban life soothes just like Maine.
Sounds true, and that’s the best kind of story, even if it’s fiction.
Great comment, Heather…….
Yes, there is something precious wherever you are.
The marked contrasts in the lives of mother and son serve to show how alike their lives are! Great story!
True or false, it’s a great story.
Nice. Straight up nice.
It’s fiction 🙂 but rooted in truth. After all, write what you know!