Since my posts have been super-long lately, and since I'll be out of town this weekend, I'm going to start posting short snippets of my writing. Feel free to critique because everything I'm posting is a work-in-progress!
Then the door creaked open, and I was awake again, but I didn’t want her to know, so I kept my eyes shut tight. Without looking, I knew she tiptoed in, her feet bare, her toenails a brilliant red, as they always were.
“Ma petite fille chérie?”
I could feel her near me now, and I struggled not to smile or flutter my eyelids the slightest bit. But then her long brown hair grazed my chubby eight-year-old cheeks, and my lips burst open with a giggle.
“Oh, you silly girl, pretending you did not hear me,” she said, still speaking in French since she barely knew any English at all, as she tickled me under my arms, along my sides, and I squirmed under her touch but didn’t try to roll away.
“Stop mum, stop,” I squealed in French, expecting her to keep it up despite my "protestations."
But she stopped abruptly, drawing her hands away from me and folding her arms across herself.
“I didn’t mean it,” I said, sitting up.
But her gaze flitted away and she laid down, her head against the pillow where I had been peacefully sleeping just seconds before.
All was easily forgiven.