Happy Friday everyone,
There hasn’t been a lot of progress on the fiddling side of life, so I thought I’d post a short story instead. I can’t remember the last time that I posted one. If things continue this way, I’ll be alternating between fiction posts and fiddling updates for the next few weeks.
Also, sorry for the earlier mistaken post. I’d been preparing to share something and accidentally had it marked as scheduled and not draft. Oh well ;P
There is a moment when I know that the next action I take will decide the rest of my life. It scares me for a second. Every step up to now has been leading to this decision. All the past mistakes, all my mother’s whispered promises of a better future, of promises of deserved happiness, all my father’s bruises upon my arm. This is the moment when I can choose who I will be. What my future will be.
I have known abuse, but I have also known love. I know which I prefer. I know which I want to embrace. I know what I want for the child stirring in my womb.
The man who put the life there has also put scars that will never heal into the skin of my back. His fingers have dug dark marks into the flesh of my neck. His fist has broken the bones in my fingers. The bones in my nose. I chose him like my mother chose my father. But I will not choose to die by the hands of my lover as she did.
This is the moment when I can choose to stay subservient or become empowered.
So I raise the gun and fire one shot into the head of the man who never loved me as I deserved.
And I am free.
May inspiration flow like ink upon your quill,