(100-word flash fiction)
She sat down and hoisted her bruised legs onto the chair, HIS chair. The welts were still visible.
The baby moved inside her in protest.
“Calm down, darling,” she cooed, caressing the bump, a bud waiting to spring forth. “The storm has taken him. Forever.”
Fallen spring blossoms lay strewn around them like confetti.
“He can’t hurt us anymore. We will always be safe now.”
She felt a slight pressure under her palm. Parting her blouse, she stared down, there was the unmistakable indent of a tiny palm.
She gently lay her palm over it and high-fived her baby back.
My today’s portraiture client was a domestic violence survivor. She said she gave birth to her daughter with bruises on her body. Black-eyes were common. She still stayed for a few more years until she mustered the courage to leave. He walked out of their lives and never contacted his kids. Her eyes were beginning to well up. I had to divert her from unpleasant memories. I guess the above story is a bit of a real-life one.
Thank you Rochelle, for keeping up all going in these difficult times 🙂
Photo prompt –
Click the floating frog to join.