With uncombed hair tied hastily by a ponytail, I am preparing breakfast at full speed when my little lad shouted, “Mom! Mom!!”

His little voice vibrated around as he shouts for me to go to our living room.

“Dad’s on the news mom! Mom!!!”

“Wha—,” I said as I hurriedly went out to see.

My heartbeat raced as I saw him on the TV. For the third time this week, he’s playing as a pacifier of the first-calm-then-soon-angry rallyists.

I remembered how his chief bleed almost to death when he was hit with a wooden placard last Tuesday.

I didn’t noticed I was holding my breath until I felt little hands tapping my thighs.

“I smell burned eggs, Mom.”

Word count: 120

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Sunday Photo Fiction

In response to Sunday Photo Fiction for February 28, 2016.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.

Enjoy more awesome stories here:

50 thoughts on “Burned”

  1. Great take on the prompt. It would be quite worrying to have your partner in the crowd when his colleague almost bled to death earlier. Great build up.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you, Caitlin. I think you should link it directly to your profile. 🙂 So that when I click your name or photo it will direct me and your other readers to your blog. 🙂


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