Papa’s Always Right #amwriting

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Papa’s Always Right

“You are too trusting,” Papa says.

I take Papa’s words to heart. Yet, when Rolf of the exquisite blue eyes and bright smile tells me I will be safe in this dilapidated cabin that looks as if the only occupants might be mice, I trust him. Heart and soul.

The sound of footsteps crunching through underbrush wakens me. When men burst through the door, rifles raised, I inwardly sigh.

“There’s no one here,” one soldier says gruffly.

“I tell you I left the resistance girl here.”

From my perch high in the pine, I think: so much for nice smiles.

end

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