Flash fiction 3

“Mamma…” She hears a voice calling out to her. She’s half-asleep, fluttering in and out of consciousness. She wants to reply, but is too tired to.

“Mamma!” says the voice, more indignantly this time.

“Hmmm?” she replies, surprised at the tone she’s replying in, and then deja vu hits. She’s heard this tone, somewhere. And the it hits her. It is the exact same tone he uses when he’s replying to her inane questions.

She rolls over, holds the tiny hand in hers and goes back to sleep, revelling in the discovery she just made, smiling to herself.


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