Closing the broom closet door, I escape.
I hear a girl’s whisper in the dark. “Don’t scream, I’m hiding too.”
“Bullies?” I ask.
“Mean girls,” she answers.
Standing, stomachs churning with frisson, our fingers brush and interlock at our sides.
“It’s ok,” we say together.
Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.