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Passion's Path - Wee Challenge #37
Fatoumata awoke before daybreak. Thoughts peppered her mind like harsh desert winds. Her older sister’s screams on her thirteenth birthday, the metallic smell of blood from the cutting, haunted her. She would not miss this life.
She rose slowly. Her baby sister slept peacefully, mouth open, on the worn bed. Her brothers were gone, martyred in the holy war. Hatred for the Great Satan consumed her father.
She covered her frail body with the heavy burkha. Cold voices exchanged whispered instructions from the next room. A rough slap silenced her mother’s muffled cries. Her father opened the door and handed her the bundle, wrapped in a soft blanket like an infant. Fatoumata placed the detonator in her pocket and left for the marketplace.
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Comment by: karjon Online- 2008-06-25 06:22
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Oh, okay, I may have been wrong - this might be your best one.
Tut - stop making life so difficult for me, woman.
Great stuff - brought tears to my eyes, Vickie.
Cheers
Karen |
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Comment by: WLC - 2008-06-10 11:15
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| As much as I don't want to read such, I am compeled to. Much so due to the writing style. It is, well, I'll use Mitch's word, flawless. |
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| OMG *eyes fill with tears*.... Jeez... this is too touching... wow... all I can say... |
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This is without a doubt a very touchy subject. Yet you managed to invoke a sense of emotion into a person that most people would rather not care about.
This one has no such "He did not blink" line that stands out, but everything in this is crisp and tight. I really see no way in which this can be improved.
It's not a topic that most would even dare to write about. Not from this point of view. You pulled it off amazingly well. Good job. |
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Comment by: Arley - 2008-06-07 08:58
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| I see we have a prequel here, Vickie. You did a great job with a morbid subject, and it stands on its own without the sequel. |
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