Firefly Glen Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl

she had not expected any understanding from him, for she did not think him capable of knowing this. but his acknowledgment of the ugly, festering wound of grief that she wore was enough to ease the tension held in flexed muscles.

it was difficult to conjure any appreciation for his display of kindness, even after he threw himself to the ground before her. she did not possess the warmth in her heart to spare for him.

again he asked what use he could be. and again she answered.

"i do not know."

send him to search for her son? she feared he'd be looking for a ghost.

but could she call herself mother if she did not hope for her child's sake?

she let her toes curl beneath the soil, mouth dry as she decided upon her next words.

"alasdair. that is his name, should you ever meet him."

she wished to say more — tell him he is loved! tell him he is precious! tell him he is missed! all the things she wished to say herself should she ever see him again, but the words were heavy on her tongue.