I dozed off while placing wet strips on my boy’s forehead, which glowed red in the lantern’s light.
When I awoke, everything was dark. I struck a match. His face was white.
I replaced the spent wick and ignited it. The flame restored color, only to the hut.
That last line really sets the tone for the piece!
The imagery here, Sara! Fabulous.
Oh no! This is so sad.
Such a sad little piece!
The colors are incorporated very aptly in your story.
It’s especially tragic that the son passed while the mother rested.
This was so full of tragedy in so few words well done!