Claire sat on the couch, gently rocking Atlas in her arms, exhaustion evident in the slow rhythm of her movements. The newborn fussed quietly as she tried to soothe her, her tiny fingers curling against hers as she adjusted her for their feeding. Two under two. Three teenagers. And a twenty-year-old.
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@ijjmachineThe living room was warm, bathed in the soft, late-afternoon light filtering through the bay window. Dust motes danced in the sunbeams, and the house held that particular, heavy quiet of a naptime that hadn't quite taken for everyone.
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