April Flash(back)
Flash Fiction April 4, 2015
Practice, practice, practice. Sometimes he makes me so mad. Always telling me what to do, where to do, reminding me over and over again to practice. Like I don’t already know. Bad enough I get it all the time from my coach, but why does he have to do it to?
I pounded through the water: freestyle, butterfly, breast, back. Again and again and again.
Yanked backwards, arms flailing, I was pulled upwards and surrounded. Lips caressed, kissing mine sweetly. I held on tight, didn’t even care who saw us. Daddy had me and all was right in my world.
Practice, practice, practice. Sometimes he makes me so mad. Always telling me what to do, where to do, reminding me over and over again to practice. Like I don’t already know. Bad enough I get it all the time from my coach, but why does he have to do it to?
I pounded through the water: freestyle, butterfly, breast, back. Again and again and again.
Yanked backwards, arms flailing, I was pulled upwards and surrounded. Lips caressed, kissing mine sweetly. I held on tight, didn’t even care who saw us. Daddy had me and all was right in my world.
