The Touch

She’d come to the park for some peace and respite from the relentless memories haunting her. The fresh air and greenery should have cleared her mind, instead it just further burdened her.

These benches reminded her of her dress that day, red with yellow polka dots. A happy five year old, excited for her uncle’s visit.

Naive, but precious.

“Let’s practice some cursive writing,” he’d said, sitting on her bed. She couldn’t recall when the arm behind her back and the fingers guiding her through the lines and loops, went up her thighs and between her hips.

Lesson of the evening: the curse of touch.

With a sigh, she stood to exit. Some memories were etched to deep to ever forget.


Devereaux Frazier and Beth Amanda host the Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge. Write a piece of prose or poetry around the wordsΒ cursive, touch,Β andΒ forget.

This is for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Write in 200 words or less, inspired by the photo ‘muse’.

Other prompt: #FOWC– Precious.

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