Brea Henderson
Stories (7/0)
The Cries Of The Wild
I didn’t know how much I was hurting them. I’ve been through millions of forests, passing by trees and moss, and they felt like nothing more than scenery, a background in that point of my life. They were alive, but they weren’t sentient, they didn’t feel like anything to really care about.
By Brea Henderson23 days ago in Fiction
Sister of a Sister
One of the first people that can be there to inspire a woman is their mother. Anyone who grows up with their mother around them is given their first possibility for a role model, someone who brought them into the world and will help to lead them through it as they grow up. I was lucky enough to have my mother with me throughout my life, so there are many stories I could write about my experience with her.
By Brea Henderson2 months ago in Families
My Mom's Meadow
This was her favorite place. Every winter I could remember looked and felt like this, with Mom dragging me through the snowy meadow, trudging through white powder as it slowly piled up, on the ground and in the trees. I’d be freezing even under ten layers, still feeling like there was snow in all of them, especially my boots.
By Brea Henderson2 months ago in Fiction