Women and Children

<p>The backs of Winston&rsquo;s little thighs were a light press against the fronts of mine, radiating fever-heat through his blue shorts. His bare feet dangled- limp above the cracked tile of the patio. It was also just hot at the edge of things, on the line between the shade and the soon-to-be setting sun.</p> <p>Mostly we spent our time together gazing at each other. At first, he kept his body at a slight angle that allowed for the gazing. Between gazes, we would turn our attention to the dusty yard where the school-aged children who had the strength and energy to play were pushing each other down an unstable plastic sliding board on wobbly broken tricycles and skateboards.</p> <p><a href="https://maureenboland.medium.com/women-and-children-48c1dcc705cb"><strong>Click Here</strong></a></p>