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Weekly Contest #69
The pounding started in the middle of the night and that woke Mae up. Blinded by the darkness, together with her mom and her siblings, they rendezvous with peace in another house, snuggled safe in someone’s bed, without slippers to protect the innocent soles of their feet. It was not a drastic change. It was rather a slow, easing, wretched change of seasons. The morning after, they return to the bleak house. The smell as ash trays and thrashed and splinters. They entered quietly. Chaos was apparent. It was as if a storm passed and the ...
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