100 Word Story: Soft Feet

“My birthday was on Easter once when I was a little girl.”

“I know. You’ve told that story before.”

“It’s a good story to tell, so you should just listen again. Be a nice person.”

“Fine. Tell me.”

“I was very little and we lived in Hastings. My mother was very sad because her sister Marjorie had died. The night of the phone call, my father cried at the dinner table and my mother stopped speaking. We tiptoed during the day and slept holding our breath. On Easter, my mother slipped into my room before dawn holding three chocolate eggs.”