Margaret sits in the waiting room, alone with her thoughts. The events of this morning, looping in her mind like a tragic news clip, solely hers to witness.
“Mama! I’m imbisible!”
With less than a second’s consideration she’d responded, “You mean ‘invincible’.”
“Yeah!” said her son, her precious dare-devil, only child, wearing last Halloween’s superman costume, now too small, with torn elbows and shredded knees. “I’m IN-VINCIBLE!” pronounced so carefully.
With a shout he was off again. She was grateful for the opportunity to focus on her work.
Now, guilt infuses her waiting. Five year olds are not invincible.
This 100 word challenge post.