Photo by Sixties Photography on Unsplash
Even under the veil of the winter night, Felix could easily see the mark in the glass’ reflection.
Red as a rotting rose.
It hadn’t been the first time she had screamed at him, but yesterday, a malicious strike finally shook the scales from his eyes.
So here he was, standing desperately on a familiar porch, fragile like a scared child.
A knock, followed by another. Light within. The door creaks.
A similar visage. An agonizing silence.
“Dad…” The young fool stumbled. “I…”
No matter.
Hushed by a warm cotton t-shirt, and a rare sob. Last heard lifetimes ago, seemingly.
About the Creator
Tom Siv
Currently just a student. Aspiring writer, and hopefully half-decent older brother.
I'd love to publish a book one day, if I ever produce anything worth its salt.
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