#jwarrcn

Regan frowned. "You see it too?" She asked softly, looking to the other girl. "Do you have the sight?" The girl didn't meet other people like her, half to time most of the people she met and talked to about her gift didn't believe her.

Dark irises mar the patches beneath the brows, strong and curtained behind closed eyelids. The eyes of her fetus glared at Lorraine for such long, uncomfortable moments in dreams, then brushed her off as if she were dirty, as if she had contaminated her.

But unlike passions fading quickly like rising smoke, life itself gave her happiness, flaring a sensation from the deepest parts of her like a bright red oil-lamp flame every time she caught a glimpse of Judy, or the gentle waft of her toothpaste. Lyrics every night to her restless four-year-old with her head cradled against her thigh and body sprawled on the mattress to prolong brushing time, until little Judy could stand still on the stool by the basin to brush her own teeth at five. The deep ache in her heart sat and mellowed like turning roast, from Judy’s pain when brambles stuck, or early tantrums that burgeoned the seeds of bad memories that she tried to fill with good.

‘   Hiya, sweetie. Good morning!   ‘   Scarlet leaves swathe like a dry bonfire above them. Sap green, old-fashioned tones of the garage door lay closed against the shimmery work of Ed’s old bike going dusty, stood next to a large empty space. Lorraine’s arms encircle her in a tight hug. Colour fills her cheeks; an omnipresent warmth seemed to live along the plush wool of her sweater.