Poppy stood up in her cot, gripped the railings and shook them so hard I thought she might escape. Our suitcases were stacked against the wall of the motel room. I couldn’t bear the thought of unpacking them to locate the sleep sheep.
“Come on, girl” I repeated, stroking her back, “we’re going on an adventure tomorrow, you need to rest”
Poppy buried her face into her blanket. There was no crying, just sniffling and the faint sound of ‘mumumum’.
Rumbles of thunder came first, then the heavy rain. “Mumumum” Poppy muttered, before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. (100)
It’s been a long, long time since I took part in a Friday Fictioneers. My baby is sleeping, I have a few rare minutes to spare.
If you’re not familiar with Friday Fictioneers, every week Rochelle Wisoff-Fields hosts a photo prompt and writers throughout the world use it as inspiration to write a 100 story. Want to read more, head over here. Enjoy!