Fiction under 250 words.
“Mom! I need a washcloth!”
“Mommy, I need help with a word!”
“I can’t believe you washed my favorite t-shirt, mother. Now it’s too small!”
Faye sighed and dropped her head in her hands. She was so tired. She had just finished working a 50-hour workweek and she wasn’t sure she had the mental energy to deal with her three demanding children.
Not now. Perhaps not ever.
She cringed as she heard her oldest daughter bicker with her middle son. Standing, she walked to the door and quietly closed it with a decisive snap. She needed a few minutes to recharge her batteries.
She leaned against the door and tightly closed her eyes.
“Six months, eight days and,” she cracked her eyes open to glance at the clock, “twelve hours,” she murmured softly as her gaze shifted to the framed picture of a handsome man in Marine uniform. “I don’t think I can do this without you,” she whispered.
She didn’t have time to cry. She didn’t want to cry. She needed to cry.
Faye cleared her throat to regain equilibrium and walked over to the laundry basket. Memories of Charlie began a sneak attack on her senses, but she abruptly stopped that train of thought and gave herself a little mental shake.
Picking up the laundry basket, she glanced out of the window to see her elderly neighbors, walking down the street, hand-in-hand. They looked relaxed and happy.
They were together.
Dropping the laundry basket, she burst into tears.
Want to play? Let’s concentrate on the emotion “grief” this week.
All you have to do is write 250 words (no MORE) about any scene you heard, witnessed or imagined. You can either post your own flash fiction on your blog, or post it in the comment section!
Either way – do it now. Don’t wait. Don’t make excuses.