I’m stepping out in faith today, hoping Rochelle meant it when she said no one would flog me if I exceeded the 100 word limit. (This is at 132). For more Friday Fictioneers, see here. For glimpses of Angelique from previous weeks, click here.
Looking forward to reading everyone else’s stories!
This week’s photo comes from Sean Fallon:
Kiss Me, Child
Pickle jars everywhere, full of batteries, pins, butterscotches. Beneath the peculiar odor of the aged, Angelique relished the fragrance of life well spent.
People crowded round the bed, obscuring its occupant from Angelique’s view. She inched closer and peeked between two of them.
“There you are, sweet girl.” The old woman’s eyes remained closed, her wrinkled lips barely parted. “I’ve been waiting for you. Come kiss me. Take a butterscotch on your way out, if you like.”
No one noticed as Angelique crawled onto the bed and kneeled beside the woman’s head. Leaning over, Angelique touched her lips to the woman’s. Fire and ice swirled in her spirit as the family lifted their voices in quiet song.
T’was Grace that brought us safe thus far… and Grace will lead us home.