Mother Always Asked Uncle Art to Babysit

C. Christine Fair

His avuncular fingers
plunged deep
into my
girlish flesh,

Plowed furrows and planted seeds of rage
that grew into Sequoias
stretching upward
toward the sky
to scratch his deeds into the crisp cerulean
To draw the eyes of my
Daunted mother, demanding that she countenance
His crimes just once before cancer claimed her.
Having at last seen, slump in shame and pain, and
Beg her only daughter for absolution.

This version was published by The Drabble in October 2019. I’ve published other variants on this as I continue to play with words and how they are displayed. Other variations include a 50-word account which FiftyWordStories selected as the story of the week in September 2019 and then story of the month. Another version yet was published in Awakenings.