Arctic weather outside:warm inside. Does anyone remember that old song, “Baby it’s cold outside?” A love song and so much fun. Welcome writers and friends to read and leave constructive critique for us to improve our craft. I appreciate every comment.
This week I continue with Reconstructing Charlie. Her mother packs a bag , Charlie tries unsuccessfully to scrub blood from her hands.
excerpt in eight:
She was in charge, this new mother, and I didn’t question her; icy cold inside myself as Mom dragged me along to my bedroom. I kept looking back expecting him to come after us.
Mom’s hands caressed a leather case I’d never seen and said in a soft voice, “I packed my clothes and ran away sixteen years ago, so wild and out-of-control.”
“Were you ever sorry, Mom?”
“I have you and Jimmy, and my little girls so take a shower ‘cause I have things to do.”
I heard Mom opening and closing drawers, knew she’d be too busy to worry about me for a while and crept back to the bloody mess to make sure he really was dead. Shivering, I ran for the bathroom but even a hot shower couldn’t warm me and blood refused to wash off; words spun around in my head: ‘Out, out, damned spot.’ I scrubbed ‘til it hurt, Lady Macbeth, that’s me.
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I’ve opened a new FB page and need LIKES, my friends. In appreciation of your support all year, I’m opening a promo op to you from any Tuesday to Friday where you can post a pic plus blurb and links. No comments or critique. This has nothing to do with WEWRIWA. It’s just my way of giving back to our community of writers.