The morning was foggy and cold, like her mood. Everyday she stroll the empty streets looking for him. It was one unfortunate day when she lost him here, never to be seen again.
For years her friends had tried to comfort her, to convince her that she needs to move on. But as her untiring search fell into her routine and their words on deaf ears, they were waited for time to heal the wounds.
She walked on the deserted streets, hands numb, her eyes grasped for every movement. Her brain tried to deviate from the hope while her heart followed her eyes which tried to identify any hazy silhouette as him, her son.
He was 8 years when he was lost. He must be 14 now. Today is his birthday... She felt bereft. The words came out broken, saturated with loss, Happy Birthday, my son.
Written for Three Word Wednesday : Prompt words - deviate identify saturate