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Short story

The midnight visitor (flash fiction)

I tossed around in my bed, sweating profusely despite it being winter! I was only 6, and looking for my favourite toy. Only, I couldn’t remember what it was! I searched every shelf, every cupboard.

I wish I knew what it was that I was looking for. I wish I had someone to tell me. Daddy? Grandma? My friends? I looked around. They stared at me with a blank , almost confused expression. When I could bear it no more, I burst into tears. Or was I crying already? I couldn’t make out.

It was then that a hand touched my hot forehead, smoothening out my non-existent wrinkles ever so gently. I knew who it was. Only, I could not remember what she looked like. I looked all over my room  – a photograph? A souvenir from a holiday maybe?! I just couldn’t remember. I tossed in my bed, kicking away imaginary demons!I

The hand gently caressed my forehead, lovingly touching my cheeks, tapping the tip of my nose. Just like when I was a baby. I smiled, relaxed and in peace.

And a soft, gentle voice said ‘Darling, It’s OK to forget’.  I nodded, and reached out to kiss the hand. It was gone. ‘Yes, Mum’ I whispered, my eyes still closed. A tear rolled down my cheek.