The setting sun made the ash sparkle as it drifted on the air, much lighter than snow. Time was almost up. Jessie told Bobby to wait on the pavement while she did a quick recon.
Fate was on their side – a room with four walls and a door that locked from the inside – a refuge. They’d live another day.
‘Come up, Bobby.’
She spread their blanket on the cold concrete floor. They lay down. She pulled Bobby close.
‘Mummy, don’t do that. It hurts.’ Jessie’s eyes shot open.
‘Don’t do what, darling?’
‘Scratch my back with your nails.’
This piece was written for the Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple.
Each week a photo prompt is given and the challenge is write a flash fiction piece of no more than one hundred words.
Find other Friday Fictioneer stories here.