Image courtesy of Roger Bultot
I missed last weeks Friday Fictioneers. I was wrapped up in rewriting ‘The Sister’, crafting a version suitable for my 10 year old son. He’s so eager to read my debut but being a psychological thriller I didn’t think it was appropriate for him. He now has a special version all of his own!
‘I’m sorry.’ I whisper.
‘Why did you do it?’ Your tone is soft and you stretch out a hand but I shrug it away. Anger I could cope with. Sympathy will make me cry.
I breathe in apple blossom, curl my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. You deserve an explanation at the very least. I open my mouth but the words won’t come. They’re stuck in my constricted throat, along with shame and guilt.
Sirens slice through the birdsong. I stand brushing grass from my skirt and for the very last time I kiss you goodbye.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt. Hop over to host Rochelle’s blog and read the other entries here.