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Weekly Contest #295
The shrill scream of my mother rippled through me like a searing knife. My body flinched and I shuddered at the sound. This wasn’t the right sound one heard at a funeral. No. Screaming, crying, the shouts of grieving, those were expected. But this was too shrill, too high pitched, too alarmed. I instinctively clenched my chest. The beat of my heart made the expansion of my lungs laborious. The air around me stirred and it took me a moment to realize it was just the people around me stirring. Heading for my mother. Somehow, I stood up too, an...
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