-
RSS Become a Fan

Recent Posts

Tears in the darkness
The images that shape a story
A Disordered Imagination, Part Two
A Disordered Imagination, Part One
Life behind the dikes (or dams)

Categories

American Society
Connections
Culture
Current Events
Environment
Fiction and Life
Friendship
Good an Evil
History, Research, Writing, Fiction
Horses
Language
Life and Death
Life in Aiken
Literary Criticism
Popular Music
Retrospectives
U.S. History
War and Peace
World War I
Writing Groups
powered by

Clio's Temple

The Protector

A woman harbors a festering resentment of her aged mother's demands - until a long-departed ancestor comes calling.
Sheeplishly, I shuffled to her side. When I saw her small, balled-up form, I was dumbfounded. Before me was a curly-headed five-year-old version of my mother. Her sweet brow was furrowed as she sucked furiously on her tiny thumb. Then her lips trembled, and she whimpered in her little girl's voice as a tear escaped her eye. A serrated dagger ripped into my chest.

It was then I was struck by a horrific thought. I struggled to speak to the spirit of m y great-great-grandfather. "Are you here to take her?" I whispered. "Please, please don't take her."

Nights of Horseplay coming from CreateSpace.com in September. Follow www.stevethewriter.com/nights-of-horseplay for ordering information.

0 Comments to The Protector:

Comments RSS

Add a Comment

Your Name:
Email Address: (Required)
Website:
Comment:
Make your text bigger, bold, italic and more with HTML tags. We'll show you how.
Post Comment
Website Builder provided by  Vistaprint