She appears to sleep beneath the yellow forsythia, her golden curls covered in bits of leaves and other debris, a tangled nestled mass strewn over the rich dark dirt heavy with moisture after an early morning shower that brought the songbirds to life singing throatily breaking the silence, the melodious sound made her eyelids heavy. The curtain of sun burst flowers drifting and delicately waving gently to and fro in the breeze protect her soft alabaster skin that appears iridescence like a pearl in the sea awash in sparkling water rivulets.

Her chubby fingers curve protectively around the bottle lying in the crook of her arm covered in a pale, soft, feathery down. Delicate pink full lush lips parted slightly, pearl white tiny teeth clamp down lightly though possessively on the rubber nipple. Small bubbles gather at the corner of her lips, a slight gurgle of sound emits from the back of her throat. The quiet is shattered and the slumbering child awakens, jumps up from her hiding place and runs across the wide expanse of manicured lawn towards her mothers welcoming arms and holds out the empty milk bottle.


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