It's the last day of the Microfiction competition. I've had one last stab at it. Can't be any worse than last night's woeful entry. My only excuse is that i wrote it in under eight minutes. (No, i know...there aren't any excuses.)
Here's my attempt from yesterday.
Forever Young
Alice was perfect in every way. The lips and eyes drawn in an aspect of perpetual expectation, her cheeks pinch-able, her skin without a blemish in the glow of the reading lamp.
Margaret gathered her up and dressed her in the white play suit she had lovingly knitted. She fitted the little hat over her head, and she lay her down in the cot. Warmth had long since left the sheets, but Margaret's love remained. The new Alice was unbreakable and forever young.
If only her daughter had been made from the same synthetics.
Here's my attempt from yesterday.
Forever Young
Alice was perfect in every way. The lips and eyes drawn in an aspect of perpetual expectation, her cheeks pinch-able, her skin without a blemish in the glow of the reading lamp.
Margaret gathered her up and dressed her in the white play suit she had lovingly knitted. She fitted the little hat over her head, and she lay her down in the cot. Warmth had long since left the sheets, but Margaret's love remained. The new Alice was unbreakable and forever young.
If only her daughter had been made from the same synthetics.
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