H A I L E Y
Liam was having a good time, and I was enjoying myself. My son had a lot of energy, and I was always looking for ways to channel it. I had found a stash of small sticks and twigs, and Liam had taken it upon himself to build the world's best stick stick boat.
He was humming a song to himself as he carefully arranged the sticks on top of the boat, his eyes focused and serious.
I took a moment to just admire him, and the feeling hit me, that feeling that had been creeping up on me.
I felt like I was being watched.
I looked around, my gaze searching the trees. There was no one there. Just the breeze rustling through the leaves, the birds chirping in the branches. Why do I keep getting the feeling like someone is watching me?
Maybe it's a sixth sense, I thought. Maybe there is
