Micro-Monday Flash Fiction: {Little}

Alrighty. Let's try this Flash Fiction thing again, shall we? I have fun with it, it gets my writing muscles warmed up for the week, and I know at least a few other people have enjoyed it in the past. So, here we go.

Remember: 300 words or fewer. Post in the comments, or link up on Twitter with #mmflashfic. Today's prompt is "little." Write whatever that sparks for you.

They were so little. So tiny. And every time she looked at them, her heart broke all over again.

Shoes. 

They sat on the dresser in the freshly painted nursery, next to the rocking chair in the corner and the crib against the wall. Above the crib hung a Noah's Ark mobile, miniature fuzzy animals dangling beneath a boat that had never turned 'round and never played its lullaby. Maybe it never would.

She sighed and fingered the shoes, just looking around the room. What would they do now? Was it worth another try? She sat in the rocking chair and began rocking, subconsciously rubbing her belly that had once held life. She couldn't trust her body. it was a malicious thing, a thing that killed, and she didn't know if she could ever trust it to care for a life again.

She kicked off her own shoes and slowly rubbed her feet across the Noah's Ark plush rug as she rocked, her feet sliding back and forth, toes wriggling into the thick pile. 

And she cried.

The blue walls wavered and blurred as she looked up at the wooden letters that spelled "Emerson." They'd have to take it down, she thought. They'd have to take it all down. Maybe they should just sell the furniture, paint the walls white, and turn it back into a guest bedroom. Put some fluttery white curtains on the windows, and a vase of bright, cheery flowers on the nightstand. Yes, that might do. That might help them to forget.

They did repaint the room, and sell the furniture.

But she kept the little pair of shoes right next to the vase of flowers. And a single letter, "E," on the wall above the nightstand.

(Words: 291)