Silvery flakes drifted slowly down to the ground, covering the grass in a blanket of cold. Suddenly I am thankful my neinoo(mother) taught me to craft moccasin boots for the winter. I stare upwards as the snow slowly comes to a stop. I think about all of the other people in my tribe. The neinoo making supper; the neisonoo(father) returning from hunting; the tei'yoonoh'o'(children) playing just outside the tipi only to have their neinoo tell them it is too cold to be out and that dinner is ready.
"Ekta! Cihciitei! Hiiwoonhehe!" my neinoo yells for me to come in; interrupting my thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
Pulled From My Thoughts
Historical FictionThis story is a short chaptered story that allows the reader to step into the perspective of kids in Colorado from different times. Hope you enjoy!
