Silence. Well, not really.
The dog’s ears are pricked, alert for the scrabble of rodents in the roof. A lonely possum calls. The fire cracks and I catch my breath.
The echo of hot words stirs again like the spoon in my fingers.
The baby sleeps for now.
I lean in, reach out, sensing only fear.
Your warm hand closes over mine.
This is a little piece of flash fiction written for the prompt word silence. You can join in to Laura Bailey’s challenge here.