Red

Dirt caked her soft dress. She’ll wash it later. For now, though self-assigned, she had to complete her mission before the sun set – she had to find it.
Laughter reached her, drifting from the house at the bottom of the yard; soon it’d turn to cries.
She had to hurry.
She sped over the ground, eyes darting.
At last she spotted it, red fabric peeking out beneath the roses.

Hiding behind the gum’s roots, she held her breath as her charge’s carer emerged, collected a red blanket, disappeared and all became quiet inside, as the lights went out.

© 2015-2021 Rebecca Glaessner

Old Mystery

The door creaked open. Cool air drifted out from darkness beyond.
She took a step, and another, hand guiding along soft, dusty walls. Her other hand searched above.
Click.
A dim globe created great shadows behind piles of books, old chests and dusty boxes. She knelt beside a lone one, a lump forming in her throat, hand hovering over her stomach.
She lifted the lid and a tear fell, disappearing into a baby blue blanket.
Forever soft.
Beneath, she saw a brass key and froze, remembering countless, frantic searches as she smiled, picturing the car in the room beyond.

© 2015-2021 Rebecca Glaessner

Nutty Aunt

“Why are you so stupid?” He roared at her.
“Don’t touch me!” She screamed back.
The yelling grew louder and echoed up the stairwell. I cuddled one of my younger sisters.
We tip-toed downstairs, tear streaked faces glancing down the hall. My hands shook.
Reaching the front door, we ducked outside.
Fresh air.
We raced, hearts pounding, to our neighbour’s, knowing she had heard it all.
Her front door swung open, a soft smile on her face.
We turned up some music as craft boxes cracked open, flour coated the kitchen and toys spilled across the floor.
Always laughing.

© 2015-2021 Rebecca Glaessner

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: