A washerwoman found my spirit, intact but stained, discarded by the road.
Well-meaning gal, she scrubbed my soul, already thin as a moth, with a Brillo pad and Lava soap. Then she went and bleached my angel wings.
I bet there’s lots of folks feeling this same way. When we see each other, tattered but alive and clean, let’s nod to each other–maybe perform e a ‘sup bro? chin raise.
–Sarah Torribio
See more flash fiction by Sarah Torribio HERE
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