They came into the restaurant near close.
She sat him on the counter as she ordered their meal.
Dark eyes read the menu while fresh baby blues glanced around the lobby.
With shaky fingers she stroked his corn-silk curls.
She sat him on the table beside her.
She fed him his meal, then bits of her own.
Her only nourishment was watching him.
He clung to her coat, as they rose to leave, picking at the silver in her otherwise raven hair.
“Are we going to see Mommy now?”
“Silly, I am your Mommy now.
~ What's that in the mirror, or the corner of your eyes. What's those footsteps following but never passing by . . .
~ The Doctor