short story: not so grown up yet

this story just popped in my head and i just had to write it and save it before it becomes another "stored" Story in my head.

---------

Mom?

I see his silhouette in the hallway light. He’s clutching his favorite pillow, his pajamas reaching his ankles. When did he grow so tall? I wonder to myself.

What’s wrong? I ask him.

I had a bad dream. Can I sleep beside you and daddy tonight?

Sure. I make space for him in the middle of the bed. He snuggles without hesitation. He still smells like a baby. I hold his hand. He lays his head on my chest. I hug him. I hear him sigh.

I miss moments like these when he was young and I had him all to myself. I was his one and only. Now I have to contend with the toys, his playmates, school, and other activities.

Do you want to talk about your bad dream? I ask him.

Just scary monsters. I might dream of them again when I go back to sleep. He says.

A few minutes of silence. I thought he fell asleep already.

Mom?

Yes?

Will you still let me sleep between you and daddy when I’m bigger and I dream of monsters again? he asked with worry in his voice. Lately he had been vocal about being all grown up and that he can do things big boys (his age) can do.

I smile.

Of course, as long as you need mommy and daddy, we’re here. Even if you’re a big boy.

That’s nice. Because I love sleeping beside you and daddy. It makes me happy.

My heart melts.

a hundred words

A hundred word short story
100 words

Inspiration alert!

The inner writer goddess in me has awoken. And yes I am motivated to post my own hundred word story. No matter how shallow and plain it might be, it will be my own story to share to whoever would spare a few minutes to read it.

But for now, I have to use my trusty old notebooks. I can’t bring the computer with me everywhere I go. And the traditional way is still tops.

And yes, this is my latest discovery, what’s yours?

flashback

read the short story i wrote september last year. still couldn't imagine that i was able to write that story out of nowhere one bored afternoon in the office.

times like these i miss writing really good stuff.

where will the inspiration come? when will it come back?

one bored september afternoon