Dirty Soles - micro

The soles of her feet were dirty.

That's the first thing I remember noticing. Mama was always so clean. Always smelled nice, like soap.

Her dress like Autumn leaves spread around her knees. Her medicine bottles lined up like little soldiers on the sink. Dirty soles staring at me.

Why isn't she moving?

"Mama?"

Her stillness unnerved me. Her hair, floating in the water like that.

Something's wrong. Badly wrong.

The ground had shifted sideways, the earth's axis had jolted.

I lit out of the house and ran like I was never going to stop.

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I was small. My legs still carried some chub, covered by the adorable shorts my mother picked for me.

I ran to the end of my breath, stopping in a soft springtime glade. Maybe it was always springtime in that spot. In its centre stood two tall wooden poles, with a third across the top.

A blackbird alighted on the grass nearby, his busy orange beak looking for his early worm. He took off, and I swear, when he passed between those poles he disappeared.

I stared at where he should have emerged, looking for the trick, trying to work it out. Did it fly back, and I missed it? Where could he have gone?

She's on the other side.

I don't know why that thought plonked into my mind. She was kneeling over the bath, hair fanned out in the water. But she's also right through there.

I can't see her. But she's there. I just have to step through myself. Just a step, and I'll smell her soap, I'll see her smile-

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate thoughtful comments, and I do my best to reciprocate reads and engagement.

If you'd like a peek behind the curtain (the story behind the story): I wrote this for Mike's microfiction challenge. My original piece wasn't micro so I've redone it and it's now just under 300 words.

Here's the challenge:

Hello Vocal Social Society Family, saw this picture and would love you to write and share a microfiction or poem based on it, your Vocal Story needs to be posted on this thread. Will award a $1 tip to the most impressive three (VSS admins can enter but I won't tip them, I have a story myself percolating and will share it here) by the end of Tuesday 5th September cos I am in Glasgow from Saturday til then. The picture is from the end of "Prince Caspian" one of the Narnia books by CS Lewis. Thanks to L.C. Schäfer for that information

If you are wondering if the child is a boy or a girl, I left that ambiguous on purpose. It's up to your interpretation. Maybe leaving it open makes it easier for as many people as possible to be able to imagine themselves in the story - what do you think? Mainly, I don't think it matters in this case - grief and trauma hit small children of either sex just as hard.

Here are some other entries in the challenge:

Through The Fairy Gate by Mikeydred

Dolly and the doll by Rachel Deeming

The Idea by Sian Clutton

If you'd like to read more microfiction from me, here's a few:

Dragon Scales (100 words)

Mummy Took Me to Watch The Hanging Today (100 words)

25 seconds and more of agony (100 words)

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Edit: If you're curious to read the longer version, I'll leave a link to that soon!