She awakened with a gasp, cold, wet and naked. A new door of frosted glass slid open, revealing redone walls painted baby blue. Bare footfalls in the night left sole shaped puddles where she would step, and in the morning soaked spots of carpet marked-out her trails.
Her touch stained photographs and toppled toys. Her voice begged for conversation from rain tapped windows in half heard whispers. Only once did the youngest child spy her nude and bruised in the bathroom. Only a second. Only a singular moment that evoked a girl’s shrill scream. But it was enough to know that she still existed at all. The apartment was empty again soon after.
Copyright © 2018 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
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