I’m participating in the Friday Fictioneers for the first time. I hope to receive an honest feedback. I’m thankful to Rochelle for hosting such an event for all the writers.
I’ve been standing here to look at the bench under the tree and I still see it’s empty. The last time I had seen her, she was playing with a piece of wood in her hands.
Her mum looked twice her age. The number of pens in my pen stand seemed less compared to the number of children in her family.
“So, she is not the last one.”
“No. One still on the way.”
“What will you do? I mean how would you manage?”
“Oh! No worries. She will be married by next autumn.”
“But she is too young. Don’t you think?”
“Young…we are poor. That’s all I know.”