Dauntless"Mommy?"Dauntless1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Pale hands twist themselves, writhe in a colorless dish rag. "Yes, dear?"
"Why can't I tell you what I'm afraid of?"
They stop; turn more vigorously, vehemently, like the towel needs to be strangled for its misdeeds. Her eyes look down upon me and my diminutive size. Placid, relentless eyes framed with hardened pity. "You know why." Her words are short, clipped by accusation.
I try to remember; really, I do. My bottom lip quivers. "Why?"
My mother balls up the rag and throws it on the table. She bends down so that we're now eye level. I reach a chubby hand out to grab her blue dress and watch her hands stiffen, her face tighten into a frown. "Because, honey." Her lips form a line, "if you let your fears loose, there's no getting them back. There's no telling where they'll run off to." She offers me a t