My Face

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“My face looks sort of cracked,” the little boy said as he looked at his reflection in the water puddle. When he looked up, if anyone had been looking at him, they would have known why. His face was screwed up because he had been crying.

The little boy looked back in the puddle of water. He said to his reflection, “Where is my mom? She said she would be here a long time ago to pick me up.” His reflection didn’t answer him.

He looked up, but he was afraid to go toward the street. He looked back down at the water puddle at his reflection.

“My school is closed. I don’t know what to do. I can’t call her.” He saw his face screw up again. He started sobbing.

Suddenly, he heard his mother’s voice as she comes running toward him. Her car had trouble.

Business Consultant and Freelance Writer

Tagged with: , ,
Posted in Flash Fiction
8 comments on “My Face
  1. I’m sure this has happened in real life and that is sad. It is scary when your ride doesn’t show up when they are suppose to. Great story Rosemary! It really touched my heart.

    Like

  2. Iain Kelly says:

    Thank goodness it was just car trouble and nothing darker! Nice take.

    Like

  3. Shivangi says:

    Thank God, her mother is there for him. Lovely story!

    Like

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