My parents never learned how to heal. Their bodies crippled by ancient, long-neglected wounds, they hobbled through wasted days with shattered arms, legs, tongues, and feet.
When they pinned me down with four broken hands, their intentions were clear.
Wrestling away, I escaped in one piece—minus a broken heart.
Michelle Wilson graduated from Bennington College with a degree in literature and creative writing. Her words have appeared in 365 Tomorrows, Bending Genres, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Rejection Letters, Potato Soup Journal’s Best of 2021 Anthology, Maudlin House, Litro Magazine, The Drabble, 50-Word Stories, Flash Fiction Magazine, and Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, among others. Her story ‘Fish Brain’ was nominated for Best of the Net 2022. She lives with her partner in Washington, DC. She can be found at https://michellekwilson.wordpress.com/.
Beautifully done, Michelle
Sadly true for so many. Beautifully written story.
Sounds like how I grew up. Well told.
with a broken heart being told they removed the broken heart?
yeah.
This breaks my heart. The power parents have!
W (onderfully) O (awesomely.. can’t find Rogets) W (ritten)
Parents make the child. Great job Michelle, nicely written
Thanks so much for your comments! They mean a great deal to me.