Two hundred is the number of my children they say; myself I have lost count. The number is not important. No matter how many children I have, they are all special to me. I can name them all, with enough time, although I cannot tell you where they all are now.
Despite that, I know I have been there when they needed me and if they needed me again, I would be there again if I had the chance. I would never let them down.
Not like I let you down, Mikey. My first born, my beautiful baby boy. I think of you each day, feel guilty but never more so than today, the anniversary.
I should have done more, seen the signs, locked you in your room until you were clean, anything to keep you safe. But I didn't. And I pay for my failures every day, every year that you are gone.
I have not and will not make the same mistake with the other two hundred children - if that number is right - or with any future children. I will not try to be their friend, like I did with you. I will be their mother, at least for the short time that I am given that chance.
I failed you as a mother.
I will not fail them as a foster mother.
In case you missed any of the pieces we appeared during the 2023 FlashFlood, here's an index to everything. Happy Reading! ' They...
CHICKEN +50 Buttermilk fried, the apogee of chicken, its chickeniest chickenness, rich gold with bite and crunch and tendern...
A girl sits, waiting. She reaches above her head for a girl. A girl to pluck from the tree of girls. The tree is full and ripe, the perfect ...
A shaft of sunlight fell across the worn herringbone floor, drawing his gaze upwards to the flawless blue sky beyond the row of windows, ...