By Kerri McCourt
Michael comes in from the sandbox, popsicle-stained fingers brushing sand off his bare, sun-kissed legs.
Sand sticks to the edges of a Band-Aid on his scraped knee.
He gazes out the window at the driveway.
“When is Daddy coming home?”
My husband used to pick Michael up from preschool and be there to tuck him into bed every night. Since we separated, that’s no longer always the case.
“He’s coming to visit you right after dinner.”
Michael looks up with pleading eyes. “Then let’s eat now.”
I distract him with play and another popsicle; Band-Aids over his scraped and longing heart.
This kills me. Well-done!
Such real and poignant imagery in your heartbreaking story. Wonderful characterization!
Ouch. Very sad. Nicely done
Detailed and gentle. You don’t overplay your hand. Well done.
Nicely done. Very clever.
Well done! I really like this line “Sand sticks to the edges of a Band-Aid on his scraped knee.” I could see the image in my mind right away.
You really knew how to bring Michael to life,how he looks, what he does, just what a toddler would say. Well done!