#66 A Broken Angel

by Zee Mink-Fuller

The faces behind the scuffed glass were as varied as the selections at the local donut shop, none as sweet, I supposed. I was walking on legs of jello, wiping raw tear weary eyes and breathing only because my hurting heart refused to quit its constant rhythm.

There he sat, last one in a row of anger filled bodies. A blonde mop shading seventeen year old frightened pale blue eyes. He placed his hands on the window as he saw me approach. I briefly touched his hand feeling nothing but cold glass, no warmth, a sign of coming bitter memories.

He motioned for me to pick up the phone sitting near a nasty plastic chair which I was to sit in while making conversation as if my life had not just crumpled into a million pieces. How was I to remain positive, calm and reassuring to my baby boy when all I wanted to do was break that glass barrier and pull him to the safety of my arms?

Someone had made a terrible mistake. Replacing the grimy phone back into its port of pain, I realized yes, someone had made a mistake and that someone was my son. It would be a long time before I would hear his footsteps on my front porch again. We were stepping onto foreign soil and as I left the hall of glass I saw a broken angel sitting among thieves.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This woman has amazing talent . She has incredible talent with her pen . We will see more of her writing in the future .