Everyone has a compartment of herself that no one is allowed to open. The face is not an entry to the soul and secrets can be hidden.
No one knew that better than Rose.
Forty years she kept quiet. Others described her as kind, generous, loving – little did they know.
In death, all was revealed. Church pews could not contain everyone and there were many witnesses when her son spat on the coffin. In a car outside, his wife restrained their son – a man child that his grandmother had said only a mother could love.
Thank you to Rochelle at http://www.rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com. She organises the Friday Fictioneers. Authors write a piece of 100 word fiction based on a photo prompt and exchange comments on their work. If you are a writer of short fiction, join us and see where your imagination takes you.