It's fiction, but in 58 words
An exercise in brevity.
Unprepared
She studies the rust spots on the ancient clawfoot tub, tears in her eyes.
Above the lavender-scented bubbles, juts the rise of her belly; an island of olive-colored skin. She wipes a wet cloth over the rise, watches the track of baby oil beads.
She’s 16, on the cusp of adulthood.
Nowhere ready.
“Baby,” she whispers.
Unprepared
She studies the rust spots on the ancient clawfoot tub, tears in her eyes.
Above the lavender-scented bubbles, juts the rise of her belly; an island of olive-colored skin. She wipes a wet cloth over the rise, watches the track of baby oil beads.
She’s 16, on the cusp of adulthood.
Nowhere ready.
“Baby,” she whispers.
Comments
First its a drabble, now a drab.
If anything with more poignancy.
Have I mentioned haiku before...
Congratulations.
The fiction in 58 mambo is rather fun. :D
The fiction in 58 mambo is rather fun. :D