Kreative Kue 322

Kreative Kue 320 asked for submissions based on this photograph: SONY DSC John W Howell is a multiple nominated and award-winning author who blogs at Fiction Favorites. Details of John’s books can be found on his Amazon author page Home by John W. Howell © 2021 “We finally made it.” “What did we make.” “I […]

Kreative Kue 322

The Outsider

“…and you’ll be surprised. I mean, just look at the son. You could tell that something is wrong with him, but the school is insisting that her son just needs a bit more time and space to adjust. Sickening. Well, I don’t know about you, but if I were you, I wouldn’t let my children go near her son. In fact, I’m going to talk to the principal to demand for a reason why that child is in the same class as my daughter!”

“Yes, we really need to talk to the principal. You should have seen the way her son just sits quietly in one corner of the class. He doesn’t talk and he doesn’t play with other children. He just stays in that corner and stares at everyone. Who knows what he is thinking?”

“Right, right! The other day, I saw him walking home. He saw me but he didn’t wave or greet me. He just looked at the ground and ran off! What kind of kid is that? And my son wanted to go after him to greet him. Something about the teacher telling everyone in the class to be friendly with him because of one reason or another. Luckily I grabbed him and we went the other way. I was so afraid he would suddenly turn around and come after us!”

“Hmm, I heard she got into trouble in another neighbourhood. Something about fighting with a man and screaming like a crazy woman. And her son was hiding behind some lamp post and crying. Right out in the street! I heard even the police got involved and they carted her and her son to the station.”

“That’s it. I’m talking to the principal today! This can’t wait anymore. Who knows what is going to happen if we don’t act?”

“Right.”

“Yes.”

“Mmm.”

There was a chorus of agreement from the group of women as they reached a consensus. They did not even bother to keep their voices down.

Just around the corner, another woman leaned against the wall, her eyes red.

What had she done to deserve such a life?

She felt someone tug the corner of her shirt and looked down. Her son looked up at her and slipped his hand into hers.

She sniffed and whispered, “Let’s go.”

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