Little hands
Soft and velveteen
Shiny eyelids
Tired and drooping
Long lashes
Looking down at the ground
A small mask
To fit his round face
With a childish print
Of his favorite hero
Shy and quiet
With delicate limbs
Putting on his large backpack
Almost home
Invulnerable
To the screams of the others
As lightning strikes
Beyond the fields of corn
Body jostled
As the bus bumps along
Dull jade eyes
Peering through the window
Staring at the rain
Behind the glass
About the Creator
The Road to Nowhere
Trigger warnings: Violence, Death. "May the Sun burn your tongue out, woman," Fredrick's father screamed the curse into his mother's ear as their elegant little carriage rumbled along, its polished wood and gilded trim glinting in the torchlight. They had just left the small village of Saffron and were on an unnamed road to the capital for the Royal wedding. Fredrick leaned back in his plush velvet seat to escape into the passing landscape, but across from him sat the servant boy, a scrappy lad named Jack. Jack's eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the kind that only a commoner could feel in the presence of nobility. Jack looked up and caught Fredrick's gaze, offering him a sad little smile before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little caramel treat. This candy was no doubt stolen from the kitchen treat cupboard; if he was caught with it, he would be locked in the box as punishment.
By Frank English4 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.