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Weekly Contest #65
“But Aunt Tabitha, I was Batman last year,” Nicholas Bradshaw’s seven-year-old face was scrunched up in clear disappointment at the black and yellow costume neatly laid out on his bed. “I know Nicky,” Tabitha Michaels’s shoulders slumped with her spirit as she sighed and sat beside the costume on her nephew’s poorly made-up Mario sheets. “But…” She made the fatal mistake of looking into Nicky’s eyes. The hazel ones that matched, or used to match, her sister’s. She pulled the boy close to her, gathering him up into her arms and setting him...
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