I’ve decided to share this flash fiction piece for today as I feel it has such a strong imagery that speaks to the reader and tells a longer story.
Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
She was about five when she stopped crying. But she still crawled into bed with me. Me. The broken one, the brave one, the older one.
My identity was older sister.
I’d been alive three years longer than she. That’s all I had to offer.
She snuggled with me, her raggedy stuffed rabbit tucked tightly to her chest.
Sometimes, on summer nights, we’d tiptoe to the porch. I’d point to the trees and tell her they were our watchers. They would protect us.
I remember those evenings the most. When the skies were beautiful watercolor paintings of our bruises.
I’ve combined two prompts this week:
#writephoto, a weekly writing prompt for poetry/flash/short stories hosted by Sue Vincent which asks writers to use photos for inspiration (the photo above is this week’s prompt)
and Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch which asks writers to pen a piece in 99 words…
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