Warm rivers flowed down Sophie’s face as Felicity was dragged screaming through the doorway. She watched as the stick-thin legs flayed, like the sails of a windmill, as her daughter made a last attempt to escape. The door squeezed close and the wailing noise metamorphosed into a muffled series of sobs.
Sophie fingers made contact with the arm of a chair and she sank into the plastic seat. An arm slid around her shoulders and her husband whispered, ‘Don’t worry. She’ll be okay. I know that these sessions are always a BITCH but soon she’ll be well.’
Sophie struggled to smile; wishing that she could share his hope. For him, she tried to mask her grief.
Written for the Trifecta challenge – see http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com for other stories