PHOTO PROMPT ©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Michael stood in the doorway, staring in at the wreck beyond. What the….?
A petite face peered around the door. “Yes?”
His eyes took in the mess again, then turned to her. “Didn’t I ask you to clean your room?”
“And it’s not cleaned…. why?”
He closed his eyes, just for a second. “Have you remembered now?”
She pursed her lips, shrugged. “Maybe.” And disappeared back behind the door.
He walked away. Daughters…. god’s way of saying you’ve lost all control of your life.
God bless, them.