“You can’t do this.”


“They’ll find out…

“It’s fiction, mom.”

“You can’t write about us.”

“It is not us. They are fictional characters and events.”

“But, still…”

“This is my first novel, mom. I worked really hard, you know that.”

“I know, honey. It’s hard to make a living as a…writer. I wanted you to get a stable job with benefits, get married, have children.”

“Like you did, mom? Oh, I forgot. You did in reverse order. You had me, found a man, then married.”

“I did what I could for us…”

“Being homeless sucked. Being obsequious to everyone and everything sucked. Doing what was expected of me sucked. This is the first time in my life I’m doing something that fills me. It helps to make sense for me. I don’t want to just survive. I want to thrive, mom. I’ve found the shoes that fit me. I’m going to run!”


For Sunday Photo Fiction – October 21, 2018.

Photo courtesy of Fandango


11 thoughts on “rickety

  1. There is often a time to run, but when the circle is complete and there is a need to come home, the hurtful words may come home to roost

    Liked by 1 person

      1. No apologies needed. I was curious. Each of us see something different and the prompt is simply to kickstart our creativity. Kudos for providing a unique look.

        Liked by 1 person

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