ceilck avatar


The secretary held it in her hands for a long while.

A skirt.

Soft. Stained. Plaid. Torn. The counselor gave it to her. She was told to keep it safe.

Ironic, to keep the skirt safe.

The contents of the skirt, she thought. We should keep that safe, too.

The person within. The child who wore.

But this was evidence, and was worth a great deal.

She sealed it in a bag. She put it in a closet. She waited for direction.

In the hallway, girls traipsed and rhymed, and sang in couplets.

She had no safe place for them.

8 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Horrorshow over 4 years ago

    Dark stuff, Ceil. Very well written.

  • avatar

    Brandon Sutton over 4 years ago

    Almost reads like a poem. A disturbing poem, but a poem nonetheless. Good work!

  • avatar

    Ceil Kessler over 4 years ago

    Thanks! Dark / disturbing is kind of my milieu right now, so those are great compliments!

  • avatar

    Chris Walker over 4 years ago

    Good drabble.

  • avatar

    Neil Ross over 4 years ago

    I like your metaphor for the child hidden. Very well laid out, reads well.

  • avatar

    John Moralee over 4 years ago

    Good story. Punchy end.

  • avatar

    Thomas Andersen almost 4 years ago

    Like it very much!

  • avatar

    Iarwain Olofsson about 3 years ago

    Whoo. Tense and thrilling in all its shortness.
    Like it.

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