Flash Fiction Sunday

Crooked Halos by Maria Bernard

“So, where are these so-called friends of yours?" asked Victor, watching me with a quirk of a dark brow, his crooked halo floating above his head. Sitting in his chair, he might as well be on a throne with that arrogance he wore so well.

"They should be here soon!" I said with as much conviction as I could muster. At the skepticism staring back at me, my resolve crumbled. He knew without me saying so, that my 'friends' weren't coming, that I was alone, by myself, in my made-up world where I was a star. Foolish me.

When he tilted his face, and held out his hand, I didn't hesitate.

"It's all right," he whispered in my ear. "I’ll always show up for you." He held me and I sighed in the comfort of his beloved embrace.

"You've never let me down, Victor. I only wish I could do this on my own. I wanted to prove that I'm strong, that I have strength in numbers, friends who would support me."

"You have that in me, Tara," said my guardian as I buried my nose in the comforting abyss of his dark hair.

"Thank God for you."


© 2017 Maria Bernard