Harriett

This week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer’s.  Story based on the picture prompt… this one by Ady.  Thanks Ady!

20160208.jpg

Harriett

“It’s just a bench, Harriett.”
She clung to my legs, damn near hysterical.
“Daddy, I don’t want to go. There was a girl on the bench, and I don’t like her.”
“There’s no one there. The yard is fenced in. It’s why we bought this place.”
“Please, daddy…”
I squatted down next to her, prying her off me. I pulled her bright red headband out and placed it back, pushing the blonde bangs out of her face.
“Your mom and I have a lot of unpacking to do. We can’t play right now. Go outside. You don’t have to sit on the bench, but you aren’t staying inside.”
To her credit, she didn’t whine or complain; she just turned and marched down the newly stained stairs leading off the deck and into the yard. It was a little chilly, the humidity making the wind sting a bit, but she should be fine.
I put away another glass and then looked out the window, searching for her. I didn’t see her.
I rushed out into the yard, feeling a little bad that I brushed her off.
Her hairband rested carefully on the bench, but my daughter was nowhere to be seen.

Advertisements

33 thoughts on “Harriett

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s