Marsha’s Reviews > Grief Is the Thing with Feathers > Status Update
Marsha
is on page 56 of 128
'We are coming, Mum?'
Their friend and houseguest, who was a crow, stopped them at the door.
My loves, he said.
My dear, sorry loves. It isn't her. Go back to bed and let me deal with this. It isn't her.
The boys floated their crumpled crêpe-paper dad back up, one under each arm steering his weightlessness, and they laid him down to sleep. Then they sat at the window looking down and watching what happened.
— 15 hours, 47 min ago
Their friend and houseguest, who was a crow, stopped them at the door.
My loves, he said.
My dear, sorry loves. It isn't her. Go back to bed and let me deal with this. It isn't her.
The boys floated their crumpled crêpe-paper dad back up, one under each arm steering his weightlessness, and they laid him down to sleep. Then they sat at the window looking down and watching what happened.
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