Isaac looked down at his sleeping daughter, his fingers stroking gently at the edge of her crib. A shard of moonlight bathed the child and, in the quiet serenity of the nursery, Isaac couldn’t imagine any sight more beautiful.
“I,…” He swallowed the words down. He knew she couldn’t hear him but the pain was too raw. “One day you’ll understand”
“You must wake her.”
His wife was rushing, their suitcases clutched tight in her hands.
“Isaac! We don’t have time!”
Angry shouts and breaking glass split the air. Isaac’s daughter smiled, dreaming.
“Give me this one moment,… please.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Jilbert Ebrahimi via Unsplash.
Though it seems we already have.
Tomorrow brings my 100th story! What will it be? Visit tomorrow morning to find out!
Spit was raining over the bald man’s chin, his mouth a snarling mask of fury as he waved his banner high.
Katie watched as the man passed, the police cordon holding she and her brother from creeping closer. Her wide eyes marvelled at the sight, flinching as the mob screamed their hate.
The bald man caught sight of her brother’s uniform and stopped.
Katie’s brother nodded.
Though no more than a twisted joke, Katie watched as the two men raised their fists.
When the condolence letter arrived two weeks later, Katie rose her fist too.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo Image by Benjamin Faust via Unsplash.
Continuing the story of Katie, first seen in the tale “Tea” – dedicated to the wonderful Devika Fernando. Click here for each part of the story so far.
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