Covered Bridge

“It was really dark last night, but I’m pretty sure this is the place,” Annie said. The fright in her eyes was palpable. There was nothing trivial about what she felt. The scratches on her hands were a testimony of the fight that had ensued in this place.

Sleeping had also become impossible with one nightmare after another. I just had to sleep with her, something we had phased out years ago.

However, despite our search, we came out short. No footprints, fur or anything to give us a clear picture or clue of what had attacked her during that party as she went to ease herself.

Walking away, feeling rather low, I vowed never to let my little girl out alone, not even for bonfire parties or late family gatherings.

I was not ready to lose her just like I had lost her elder brother to a motoring accident. The pain was still raw, I didn’t want any addition to that.

With that resolution, yet to be discussed upon her recovery, I carried her in my arms so we could get home faster. Then I wished for her father, as I had many times as she screamed through the night.


Posted on Flash Fiction For Purposeful Practitioner


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