astridbjork

Writing a Story Astrid Björklund In the beginning I remembered the sun and how I enjoyed it while running barefoot in the grass, chasing butterflies. My mother would always tell me to put on my shoes and complain about me becoming dirty. But I wouldn’t listen to her words, as if I were in a trance and nothing could get me out of it. But even though I didn’t listen to her, and even though I often made her angry, she would tuck me in softly every night before I would go to sleep, and she’d sing to me. “The big ship sails on the big blue sea the big blue sea, the big blue sea. Oh, the big ship sail on the big blue