Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Short story #2
Even though it was broad daylight, she felt she must keep the shutters closed, at least for the next hour, just in case. Brian, her toddler, was upset at the darkness, it confused him, and he stood crying softly to himself.
They’ll hear him, she thought, so she gently rocked him backwards and forwards, ever so softly, to comfort him.
Against her better nature, she turned the lights on. He must not cry, she thought.
Shh, shhh darling, shhh, it won’t be long now.
He continued to squirm in his mother’s arms, her sweat made his skin itchy, and he wriggled with the determination of a child that age.
When she thought it was safe, when she thought they had gone, she cautiously stood and tiptoed to the windows. Quietly, she opened the shutters, one, two.
The odd car going past, and a dog in the distance, barking in time.
Relieved, and now shaking with adrenaline, she threw open the curtains, and let the light in.
Photo by Peter Mirolo
Story by Patty Beecham