Another quick Friday Fiction to celebrate being home alone today. Thank you to Rochelle, who has sustained the group for so long and so wisely, and to J Hardy Carroll for this intriguing photograph. The link to my story is something of a rabbit warren of tangents, but here it is. Your comments and critique are welcome.
Choice
Josie passed another brown-bagged sandwich into outstretched hands.
“Thank you,” said the woman, tucking it into a worn-out backpack hidden in the bushes behind her. “I’ll have it when I’m done.” She waved Josie away and struck a pose, aimed at a black car approaching slowly.
****
Dad turned the phone towards her and she caught a glimpse of a torn backpack underneath a chilling headline: The Kingston Ripper Strikes Again.
“Why do they do it? They must know the risks, especially now.”
Josie took a deep breath. “If you were starving, wouldn’t you sell the only thing you had left?”
Harsh necessity and its consequences well-captured
That is scary and sad!
Dear Jen,
A sordid story subtly told. Always happy to see you here. 😀
Shalom,
Rochelle
Funny, I was just thinking about you the other day and how long it’s been since I’ve seen a FF story from you. Welcome back. So many of us seem to be flitting in and out these days. This is a wonderful take on the prompt. So sad that throughout time, women have had to resort to selling themselves just to survive. Kudos.
A very grim tale. When desperation strikes…
That’s a good question, there at the end. The story is tragic, just as life on the streets can be tragic. Well-told.