Thanks to circlesunderstreetlights for information about the flash fiction writing competition. I thought I’d step out of my comfort zone and give it a go.
She loved the mustard colored sweater, ruffled at the wrists and neckline, paired with new blue and white striped jeans, both taken from Mother’s closet. Maturely wrapped, she passed a windowpane and caught an unfamiliar reflection.
Through neighborhoods, alleys, passageways, she finally focused on turkey vultures circling the abandoned Army Camp ahead where she’d stepped on a rusty nail and pierced her foot – so fearful of her mother, she weighted down the board with her untethered foot and yanked.
She hurried past the colorful scribbled wall through the gate. Inside the iron door of the air raid shelter, a thin beam of light shone into the womb. Black erased pretty thoughts. She tapped her fingers in front of her and felt only terror.
The iron door slammed.
“Where are you?” a man’s voice said.
She stood in silence, not breathing. She would not be leaving alone.
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