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    Summary

    Whenever Wilbur thought of his mother, he thought of warmth and song. He thought of a soft white glow emanating off of a tall woman with a voice like honey, singing along to the sound of an acoustic guitar. He thought of the sleepy smell of the chamomile tea she would brew for him when he shook and cried.

    Those memories had been recently tainted by death.

    (or, wilbur misses his dead mom and tommy is an itty bitty guy)

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    682
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Kudos:
    22
    Bookmarks:
    4
    Hits:
    146
  2. 28 May 2023

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  3. 27 May 2023

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  4. 25 May 2023

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  5. 25 May 2023

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