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Weekly Contest #132
“Are you there, God? It’s me, Sophia. I don’t think I can do this anymore.” I grasp the toothbrush in my hand and stand beside him. His feet are bigger than mine. Masculine, slightly dirty. I watch as he taps two of his calloused fingers together in front of his chest, his gaze fixed firmly on the photographs on the wall. I look at them, too. Old images of easier times. What I wouldn’t do to go back and stop this somehow. Too much emotion rises in my chest. I look away, intent on keeping the sadness out. Instead, I lean in toward his sh...
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