An emotional, powerful story about love, forgiveness, and mercy…
Two women, shattered, that are nearing death in their own ways…
A fight for survival in a world that hates them…
Here’s my newest short story, called Beautiful Tears! (Available for free here!)
Here’s a sample:
“Please get down. Let’s go have some tea or… or just please get down.”
My plea was carried away by the wind on top of the bridge. Even at nighttime when there was no sign of light, the wind remained.
“I can’t,” she shouted back. Her voice slashed through the wind, straight to my ears and my heart. “I have to do this! Don’t you understand?”
“Make me understand!” I put every ounce of emotion left into the words, until they were merely shrieks that I hoped she heard. “Come down and let’s talk!”
“I… I need to do-”
“We have all night. You can do… I mean you have hours upon hours left! It’s not even midnight yet. Please, let’s just talk.”
The disheveled teenage girl turned to face me as she stood precariously close to the edge of the bridge. One wrong movement and her feeble body would fall. Tear stains had replaced the makeup on her face, and her skin seemed taut and pale.
“Why should I listen to you?” Her words were fierce, and her voice accusing. “You’re just a homeless old witch!”
I nodded slowly, afraid of saying the wrong word or using the wrong tone. “Maybe, maybe not. But even a homeless old witch has ears for you to talk to, unburden yourself to.”
“Unburden?” She laughed, but it was bitter and hollow. “You… Who told you to… I don’t want an abortion!”
The words wouldn’t come as I stood gaping. “I… What?”
She took a step away from the edge and then collapsed in the center of the road. To either side of us, the city lights were like stars on that starless night. I knelt beside her on the hard pavement and tried to lift her head.
“Talk to me, please.”
Her body shook as she began to cry. “You shouldn’t have come here tonight. I need to jump. I need to die.”
“What makes you think so?” I asked, stroking the side of her face as I’d done many years ago to my own daughter. “I know teenagers. Most of what they believe comes from other people.”
Her eyes turned upwards, and I saw her face clearly as the moonlight illuminated her tears like streetlamps.
This below is a link to Kobo, where you can get it for any device or read it on your computer/phone.
I’m waiting for Amazon to price-match and make it free, so as soon as they do I’ll send you all a link! If you’d rather pay 99 cents for it on Amazon, here’s a link to there.
David Kummer 