Micro fiction


reading time less than a minute

You fell and your bones broke and you cried in a voice that was not your own. I tried to get you back on your feet but you refused my help, you were dead weight, you were not who I remembered you to be. But sometimes you still smile when you look me in the eye. As I brush your hair while you sit at the dresser I think to myself, That’s ok sweetheart, I’m also not who I used to be.


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