Photo credit: Storebukkebruse (Flickr)
The mill bustled. Everyone wanted newly-ground flour on First Day. Sorra saved the first batch for himself. Today’s wind was strong, pushing the millstone hard. Sorra felt that way inside: blown too fast one day, sluggish the next.
Finally, he stood on Bitta’s step.
She noticed his anxiety. “Your father?”
“Recovering well, thanks.” He thrust the basket forward.
“First-day cakes? But those are for…”
“Family, yes.” Storra’s stomach spun wildly. “I thought we could, er, be that.”
Her crooked smile bloomed. She bit a cake in half, feeding him the rest. He chewed solemnly: a vow.
Sitting so close, half-listening to her parents, Sorra soaked up Bitta’s warmth. She squeezed his hand. The grinding of his heart calmed.
You may remember Sorra from a previous story — A Hard Grind. I feel a lot better, now that he finally saw what his father had clearly known long before he did.
Word count: 118. Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers challenge. My apologies for going a bit over the word count — apparently I’m out of practice! Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting, and for Sandra Crook for providing the original photo prompt, below. Click here to read the other stories.
Photo copy Sandra Crook
Happy New Year, everyone! I took a short break from blogging over the holidays, so I could focus more on spending time with my family and friends without feeling overwhelmed. I still ended up feeling overwhelmed, but much less so, I think. I’m happy to be back online, and looking forward to catching up on reading my fellow bloggers again!