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What it’s about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist.

He hit her across the face, cutting her lip and leaving sullen red marks on her cheek.

As she bent down to pick up the fallen plate, he kicked and she fell in a heap on the rice splattered floor clutching her side.

The next day when people asked, she gave them one of her made up stories, slipped in the bathroom and fell, hit face against the wall in the dark, the door frame came in the way when she turned without looking, the lies coming more easily to her these days.

On stage, the next speaker of the day was announced and the crowd roared in appreciation, clapping enthusiastically to welcome their charismatic leader, the revolutionary they hailed as their savior and harbinger of change.

As she stood listening to him speak, her face and back throbbed reminding her of the conservative heart that beat inside his radical mask.

     *             *            *

What prompted me to write this? It is easy to stand before a crowd and talk of change, root for equality of genders, raise voice against domestic violence. What’s more important is implementing all of it in their own homes. That’s where it should begin. Too many people just talk big, then go back home and treat women like shit. 

©Shail Mohan 2016

Daily Prompt: Radical

 

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