She threw herself at the slimy strings. But it was no good, she was caught in its web. The beast oozed lethargy and hacked up gobs of misery as it lumbered toward her. Her mind was hazy, she could barely remember why she needed to struggle. She had a name, it was on the tip of her tongue, and she had girl, definitely something blonde anyway.
The beast was wrapping her up in a cocoon. Perhaps a nap would jog her memory, the web was warm. Before her heavy lids closed a flash of blonde streaked across her periphery. The beat turned, it was shrieking. The blonde streak was jabbing it.
And then she remembered, she’d taught her daughter to eating milo straight, tell stories and tickle. The beast wasn’t shrieking it was laughing, he was being tickled. She struggled hard against her slimey bonds and finally broke free. The blonde streak had it’s sides, so she took behind the knees. That was the final straw, the beast fell down in convulsions. Now the two sit crunching on milo and listening to stories.
My mum has the flu on mothers day which sucks! So this is my virtual card for her.
freyawrightbrough 