Sister #amwriting

Okay, I just have to say that a fox is screeching really scarily as I write this intro and upsetting Louie the loaner dog.

Thank you Friday Fictioneers for keeping me out of trouble.

louie

Nevertheless we carry on.

PHOTO PROMPT © What’s His Name

Sister

You are my sister.

My sister.

From my first memory to 21 I semi-trusted you. I respected you. I even thought, sometimes, I loved you although you were as disparate from me as a penguin and canary.

You tossed that in the toilet with the first man you met.

“Rachel? My little sister? No significance.”

Thanks.

I heard your words the other day repeated by your girlfriend, not your boyfriend.

It occurred before my book reading.

I shrugged, lit a cigarette, which I seldom do anymore.

Life is short.

A shot of bourbon.

Poetry reading.

My words rang true.

“I’m alone.”

end

Sascha Darlington 12/4/2017

 

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