There was a mother. She had a child. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She raised a child. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She bore a child. She bore a second child. She held the first child, and she
held the second child. She watched them grow. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She was shucked like an oyster. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She dug in the earth. She washed little feet. She braided hair. She cupped
small faces in her palms. She packed snacks. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She worked. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She was tired. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She woke up. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She was bored at the playground. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She had children. She gave them the ripest fruit, leaving none for herself.
She loved her life.

There was a mother. She had children. She re-drew herself. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She was carried forward like sand. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She had a child. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She did back-of-the envelope calculations. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She filled out forms. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She glinted like the ocean. She loved her life.

There was a mother. She surfaced like wood. She loved her life.

There was a mother. They were wrong. She loved her life.

There was a mother.

A mother.

A mother.

A mother.

A mother.

A mother.

She loved her life.