PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
Bells chimed in the hallway. Doris waited a few seconds to give the bell-ringer time to leave. Or change their mind. Then she went downstairs, taking care with each step not to make a noise.
Doris heard the soft rustling of wool against cardboard. That alone told her she’d find a note with the baby that was gently waving limbs about, upsetting the carefully wrapped blankets. A mother’s last act of love in her desperation: “Please take care of my baby. His name is Edwin.”
It was seldom longer than that. A wet spot stained the note – tearful kiss.
Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less. Click the frog to submit your flash fiction and join the Fictioneers!