She told her mother she was taking a walk.  She barely looked up as Rebecca walked out the door, busy with Rebecca’s father and brothers, homework questions, dinner prep, chores.  It was a loud, rowdy home.   Rebecca had no place there.  She served no purpose  besides being in the way.

She sat on a bench and looked out at the city skyline, her teeth chattering as a bracing, cold wind whipped around her.  Despite the temperature, she unzipped her baggy hoodie, desperate to see it.   Her secret.   She peeked at her belly, a round orb, pulsing with alien movement.  She had no way of knowing if her child would be male or female, but she imagined a little girl.  She and her daughter, holding hands, swapping secrets, living in their own shared world.  This was her purpose.

For Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers


17 thoughts on “Purpose

  1. I hope that she has a better relationship with her child, than her Mom seems to have with her. Great take.

  2. the quiet deep feeling children get overlooked in a loud and busy family more often being seen as someone who prefers to be alone, yet the look elsewhere for love and belonging….you write and your words speak beyond the lines it holds together.

    1. It has to be hard to be that young and feel lost and forgotten. Her parents are about to learn soon just how lost she is. Thank you!

  3. Wonderful story. I hope she has the daughter she is longing for and they have a great relationship. It’s sad that some children do not receive the attention they need and want. When there are many things happening in a home this type of thing is often overlooked.

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