Friday Fictioneers – The Wrong Shape

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

The Wrong Shape

I watch the slow, steady drip from the bag into the cannula in my arm.

I know what’s in it; saline and glucose in water. Calories. My counsellor told me before the nurse inserted the needle.

I struggle with fear; fear of being fat; fear of food.

(I could, so easily, turn off the dripping calories)

I used to lie about my exercise habit, my non-existent periods, my days without food.

(Turn off the drip)

I don’t want to see my family.

(Turn off the drip)

I watch the slow, steady drip. That’s my life.

I’m frightened. Hold my hand.

Mother love

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. This story complements the one I published last Wednesday

Photoprompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Mother love

“I’m worried about Deborah. I want to visit her today.” Jennifer tugged the silken peignoir tighter around her bony shoulders.

Charles sighed.

“She has to grow up sometime, darling.”

“You know she doesn’t always eat properly.”

It was only a fifty mile drive.

The lift was broken, so they had four flights of stairs to climb. Jennifer wrinkled her nose at the smell outside her daughter’s flat.

Deborah, stick-thin, in crumpled clothes and with matted hair, opened the door and peered out. She had a look of exaltation, which swiftly faded.

“Mum! You know I don’t like you coming here!”