This week’s 100-word story is inspired by this photograph provided by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
I hope everyone had a great summer!
I’ve always hated fireworks.
Josef knew that, but he insisted I go with him.
“Come here. Hold my hand.”
The first explosion. I flinched.
The second explosion. I cringed and crushed his hand.
The third explosion. I jumped and ran from the oohing and aahing crowd.
Josef followed, yelling for me to come back. “It’s only fireworks.” He yelled after me.
If he only knew. If anyone only knew.
Thirty-three years and I can’t get that sound out of my head. The sight of blood. The screams.
The nightmares still haunt me regularly.
Maybe someday I’ll tell him.