As an amateur writer, I continually try to extend myself and delve deeper into my passion. I look for inspiration everywhere and every day.
This story was written late one evening in response to an online writing challenge. With no restrictions on theme, it was to be no longer than 99 words, including three pre-chosen words – crisp, clock and cuff – and the story had to begin with “It hadn’t always been blue…”
Although I am not the mother in this tale, I already know too many with stories like hers. And to think of any one of them always breaks my heart.
A Tale of One Mother, in 99 Words
It hadn’t always been blue. The room’s pale pink walls had been hurriedly buried under a barren shade of white before she was even home from the hospital. Before she arrived empty-handed. And empty-hearted.
Her daughter would’ve been almost three now. Talking, and probably toilet-training.
Will she always torture herself this way?
The warm bundle in her lap begins to stir, and she instinctively pulls at the cuff of his sleep suit against the crisp night air.
As the clock ticks away the pre-dawn hours, she sits with her endless grief. And lets it silently roll down her cheeks.
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