“Free” was written for Friday Fictioneers. Many thanks, Rochelle!
Gusts of wind burst in relief the day they found the strand of rope in the courtyard. The ache dissipated from the wind’s moans as if Frank’s tormented soul finally sought freedom.
Mama said, “Don’t judge Uncle Frank. He’s fighting his own demons.”
I judged. I’d been indoctrinated into the foibles of the Clancy men. Some drank. Some prayed. Some were blind. Only one was all three.
Frank’s cruelty bristled those in his wake that evening.
“Pray for him,” Mama said as she wiped blood from Frank’s wife’s face.
As I hid my own wound, I prayed for something else.