It was a magical world at Odds Farm. Joe, my friend’s son, fed the animals, laughed, chattered, explored. I turned to you, sitting in your pushchair. I pointed to the goats. “Look! Do you want to come and see?” But your hands were the only draw. You watched them twist and turn, oblivious to your surroundings. You were two years old and had no words. Eyes stinging, I turned away from the crowd, told myself you’d get there in the end. Your diagnosis would come later, but that day at the farm, I still believed you could be like Joe.
Sarah Barnett’s words can be found in the 2021 and 2023 FlashFlood, Free Flash Fiction, Paragraph Planet, Retreat West, and Five Minutes. X: @sarahbooga