When The Mask Slips, Friday Fictioneers


Photo credit: Ted Strutz

When The Mask Slips
By T. Delaplain

The acrid whiff of Polaroids couldn’t mask the remembered scents of cotton candy and caramel apples. The first time had been on Halloween. Had it been the innocence of her pink tights or the silky feel of her crinoline skirt? Terrifying betrayal; a father with no boundaries and his princess.

No longer his Precious, she wielded the scissors like a surgeon. Her mask askew she excised him from every family photo before plunging the blades again and again into his drunken doughy flesh.

Her costume next year would be orange.

A Friday Fictioneers offering of 100 word fiction. Sort through your photos and tell us your tale.
Ballerina photo from Pixabay, no artist identified.

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