Night swimming

Night swimming

Here’s a little pop of micro-fiction. Hope you like it. More to follow.

Remember when we went night swimming.
And that bright Saturday morning
when we picked up the keys to our first home.
And how we used to sit on the swings in the park
And sing in the rain.
Remember the picnics on the living room floor in winter.
And roasting marshmallows around a candle.
And laughing until we cried.
Remember the bright times when I am gone.

Words by Anushka, Cloudcocoa

Photo by Alyssa Boobyer on Unsplash

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