I have a vision of a boy, a little boy, six years old or even younger. This boy woke up that morning in a cold damp cellar. He was dressed in a sort of little dressing-gown and was shivering with cold. There was a cloud of white steam from his breath, and sitting on a box in the corner, he blew the steam out of his mouth and amused himself in his dullness watching it float away. But he was terribly hungry. Several times that morning he went up to the plank bed where his sick mother was lying on a mattress as thin as a pancake, with some sort of bundle under her head for a pillow."
Published 1876)
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Sharon M. Himsl
Writer/Author. Blogging since 2011.
Published with Evernight Teen:
~~The Shells of Mersing
Ooh, I'll have to remember to read this story when I have more time. The beginning alone has me intrigued!
ReplyDeleteI have heard this before and I think it tugs at ones heartstrings.
ReplyDeleteLovely post Sharon.
Yvonne.