She carried her three sons in a wicker basket. It was their first time out of the house. Their first time out in the sun. Their father didn’t know she’d bundled them up. He didn’t know she wasn’t in the house. His three sons were not asleep in their cribs. She was not playing the part of his wife.
She carried her three sons in a wicker basket. She was leaving him, never to return. She was taking her sons with her. As she walked she smiled, and laughed. She was free of him. And so were her sons.
99 Words
@LurchMunster
I wrote this for Rebekah Postupak‘s #FlashFriday, Week 36. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #Flash Friday. They are good reading.
My Soul's Tears 