DISCLAIMER:
This book contains mature subject matter and triggering topics that may not be suitable for every reader.
• • •
"What is it that I always tell you, Winona? You'll always come back to me. A bird never forgets its home."
Winona Horton ha...
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August 1984 • • •
"Can I have more, momma?"
"Of course you can, sweetheart."
The boy's heart fluttered with excitement as he watched his mother's graceful movements. She effortlessly poured the cereal into his bowl, each piece falling perfectly into place with the others. As she reached for the fridge, her long hair cascaded down her back, its lustrous strands shimmering under the light.
He could hardly contain his anticipation as she brought out the milk carton. She unscrewed the cap with a satisfying pop, her fingers gripping the container. The boy's mouth watered at the thought of the creamy liquid mixing with the cinnamon and sugar-coated squares of cereal, a heavenly combination that never failed to satisfy his cravings.
His mother added the milk to his bowl, a gentle pattering sound accompanying the soft splash of the liquid. The boy watched as the milk slowly seeped into the bowl of cereal, creating a deliciously sweet and crunchy symphony that made his taste buds sing. He took his first bite, savouring the explosion of flavour in his mouth.
"Thanks, momma," he said, his eyes shining with gratitude and love. She smiled at him, her eyes brimming with affection.
"Eat slowly or you'll get a stomach ache, Harry."
His mother's words fell on deaf ears. The crunch of each square-shaped piece echoed throughout the small kitchen, but he hardly noticed as he ate like a ravenous animal. For him, this was more than just breakfast. It was a small moment of comfort in a life filled with uncertainty and hardship. He was grateful for every bite, unsure of whether this would be his last meal of the day.
His mother watched him with a mix of emotions in her eyes, her heart aching at the thought of her son going hungry. She knew all too well the harsh realities of their situation, but she also knew that a simple bowl of cereal could bring so much joy to her little boy's face. As he finished his last spoonful, she smiled at the sight of his happy and satisfied expression.
"What're you gonna do today, sweetie? Got anything interesting planned?"
Harry was taken aback by her sudden interest in his life. It was a rare occurrence that he wasn't quite sure how to respond. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Uh, I don't know, maybe I'll go to the woods again."
The woods were his favourite place to escape, where he could forget about the world and immerse himself in nature's beauty. He often spent hours there, observing the trees, listening to the birds, and feeling the gentle breeze on his skin. It was the only place where he could truly have peace, away from the troubles and worries of his daily life.
His mother hummed in thought, reaching out to rub the top of his head. "What're you always doing over there? It's dangerous, Harry. Especially when you're there all by yourself."
