[Fast Fiction: When She Was Little – May 18, 2006]
When she was little, the house was her whole world. One room could take her as long to explore as a person would take to explore a continent. There was always something new to see and every object encountered was a wonderful discovery. Her tiny hands reached for everything she saw and a smile always brightened her face as she poked and prodded it with her tiny fingers.
When she was little, I was her rock. Everything around her could change and move, but it was my arms she longed for, my neck she cuddled against. I had the power to comfort her, feed her, keep her safe and happy. I was the magic cure to every unforeseen bump, every little bruise, every scary moment. Just knowing I was close by gave her the courage she needed to roam and learn. Looking behind her as she scampered away, she understood that she was protected. She was my heart and soul without even realizing it.
When she was little, she was my whole world. When she was little, I was alive.
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