"S-So, I s-set up
a little w-work s-station
for us in the garage."
Charlie fumbled his fingers,
"I-I th-thought it would
help us work better."
"Oh, that's great!" I beamed
at him.
"Charlie? Are you home?"
A voice called from the
second floor. Footsteps
shuffled down the stairs and
a woman with hair pulled
and twisted into a bun,
square glasses framing
her soft eyes, and a blue
standard uniform of a nurse
walked into the kitchen.
"Hi mom. This is
Rose. We have a project
together."
"Hi sweetie." She
gave me a heartwarming
smile. "I would stay and talk more
but I have work to do. Charlie, they're
upstairs sleeping right now. Here
is the baby monitor."
She handed Charlie a little
baby monitor with a view
two little babies taking
a nap in their cribs. "Have fun, loves."
She waved us goodbye and as soon as
I saw her, she went as quickly
to her nighttime job.
"Babies?" I raised
an eyebrow.
YOU ARE READING
shades of red
Poetrywhen you have too many thorns, all you can do is paint them in red, because, maybe then, they will look like petals [sequel to shades of blue]
