Badly Made Gown [Fiction]

Her gaunt appearance wasn't the only sign of hardship. Her badly made gown, held together at the shoulders with safety pins, made tears well in Sara Anderson's eyes.

The memory of a cute child, soft brown eyes, chestnut curls bouncing around her oval face as she ran in circles, chuckling, made her smile. My fiesty, brave girl, she would say and Alice would stand a little taller. Her confidence bloomed in her mother's love.

Sara sniffed, regret bearing down on her.

Alice grew up too fast and changed, upending both their worlds. She didn't want to be held back or live in an “archaic” society like her mother. The world needed to see her for her brains, beauty and confidence.

Against all pleas, threats and placating efforts, Alice left.

Then Sara grew up too, moving on with her life as a childless mother and wife until she received the call that almost broke her. After a decade, her daughter was coming home.

“Hello, mama.” Alice nodded in greeting, attempting a smile.

Sara couldn't stop staring at the woman seated before her, nor at the small, fragile boy clinging to her thin arms. Life had clearly taught her daughter lessons she never could and in cruel ways that threatened her sanity.

Would she turn them away? Her husband had asked before the meeting.

She knew she never could. Alice was her flesh and blood. Her heart. She had lived long enough without it.

A sob broke from both women as they fell into each others’ arms.

I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "badly made gown".

Thank you for visiting my blog.

^{_{Image credit: Lavnatalia}}