Published in 2017 on 100 Word Flash

The lime green coat with piping.  She loves the way the coat shines, the contrast of greens, the acid of the lime against the pine-coloured braids.

 Grit under her feet mixed with mud. The wind screaming, leaves scattering against her skin. A puddle. Clouds reflected, dizzy, the silvery light and her face, blurred. Not hard-edged and glass cold, a mirror to talk back like the boys on the street.

  Who’s got an ugly mug? Boyfriend didn’t like you, eh?

 She touches the scarred skin. Tree roots and lightning, brilliant. Reflected in the water there is only her own illuminated beauty.   

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

The home of writer Bronwen Griffiths