Flowers
FLOWERS by dkb Amy walked down the street with her menfolk. Little Tommy sat astride her shoulders, holding on to her forehead, little lord of all he surveyed. He was still a constant delight to her, even after three years of being a mum. He was a paradox, clumsy, helpless and dependent and yet also supremely confident, as if everything was there for him and nothing could possibly go wrong. Oh, he cried sometimes, when something startled him or when he hurt himself. But he could...