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 An experimental collection of exactly 100 words (mostly) |
| The back door opening woke me up in the night. I grabbed my gun, rushing downstairs. In the kitchen, a slight figure rifled through the refrigerator. “Hands up!” She turned, eyes desperate. “Please don't shoot!” “Heavens alive, child, what are you doing?” “I'm starving. Mom’s dead—Dad won't feed me. I need help!” “You could have knocked.” I put the gun aside and led her to the table. We agreed to call the police. Charges were filed—not against her. Case workers arrived. She clung to me. I lived alone, a childless widower. Adopting her was simple and profound. It changed everything. Words: 100. Written for Rachel's Beatles Challenge. Chosen song: Get Back |
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